When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth
by Mishafied
Summary: Destiel! Dean and Sam are Paleontologists; Castiel is a writer. So none of them are quite sure why Gabriel, Castiel's brother, is inviting them out to get a sneak peek of his newest 'nature theme park'. But their fascination with the extinct creatures quickly turns to terror when a betrayal sends the whole island into turmoil, and when the fences come down, all bets are off.
1. Prologue

**~ Isla Sorna, August 8****th****, 2014 ~**

Bobby Singer thought it had been unbearably hot in the Kenyan summers, sun beating down on the dry savannah grass like God holding a magnifying glass to that particular swathe of land. He thought he'd been through the worst that heat could offer, a heat that sucked everything dry, left the grass dry and the animals thirsty enough to brave the few sources of water remaining.

He realized how wrong he was the first day he stepped off the helicopter and into the oppressive, pea-soup thick heat of Costa Rica.

It clung to every thread of his clothing, making the light cloth feel ten times heavier against his skin and damp at almost all hours. If he wasn't careful about washing everything out often enough, the scent of mildew quickly became unbearable. Not that anyone was going to complain; everyone here was going through the same motions, trying to adjust to the almost foreign atmosphere of the thick rainforest on the island. Some had been here longer than others, and Bobby and Rufus longer than most.

Not that they taught the new guys all their tricks; it was kind of vindicating to see the cocky newcomers suffer as much as they had.

Rufus was obviously at the end of a long day of work. It was easy to tell, with the blotches of sweat darkening the collar and underarms of his tan shirt, the marks of a day spent toiling outside in the South American heat. The dark-skinned man had his hat in his hand, fanning himself with it as if it would help any; they both knew it wouldn't. Even with the sun close to the horizon, the heat was still stifling. His Hannibal rifle sat across his lap, loaded with .577 Tyrannosaur bullets, enough to stop an elephant in its tracks.

It probably still wasn't enough for some of the things that were behind the tall electric fences.

"I don't like this," Rufus muttered, probably the fourth or fifth time he'd said it since they'd settled down on this fallen log to wait. Bobby just scoffed, leaning his own gun against the log with a careful respect for the prized possession.

"We done over a dozen rehearsals, it ain't gettin' any better," he said, leaning forward and setting his elbows on his knees as he watched the other workers mill around. Many of them didn't even speak English, something that Bobby had always been nervous about- no matter how cautious they were, miscommunications couldn't happen. Just couldn't. Not here.

"Gabe said with his systems we'd never have to get within a dozen feet of the carnivores," Rufus continued, as if he hadn't even heard Bobby speak. "And this is the third time we've had to move the Utahs to a new enclosure. 'Bout time we just shot them all dead. Can't keep upgrading their accommodations every time they get a claw through the fence."

Bobby shrugged, but he was inclined to agree. The Utahraptors were nine feet of hide thick as a crocodiles, claws that could split bone open like butter, and a mouth full of teeth made to tear through muscle. Of course, they had plenty of animals like that on this island- the problem was, the Utahs were smart. More clever even than the Deinonychus and their teamwork, or the Compys and their evasive cunning. The Utahs knew their advantages, and they were getting to know their enemy.

Getting to know them a little too quickly.

The first cage, they'd underestimated the raptors climbing abilities. The slatted metal gates at the end of the enclosure ended up being a convenient ladder, and only the quick thinking shot of a smart handler had prevented an escape.

Of course, that handler was then fired for destroying company property. Gabriel gave them all dart guns and the Hannibals, but they were under strict orders to only use the dart guns unless there was a dinosaur presently trying to gnaw off their arm. Too expensive to do another cloning, too much money spent on the potent, proprietary growth hormones; it was very obvious that the millions that went into each dinosaur here were worth much more than the life of a handler or two.

They'd been lucky thus far. Even when the raptors managed to find a weakness in the second enclosure's fence, they'd managed to catch on to the situation before there was an actual escape. And now here they were, the third transport of the raptors to a new, more secure home. Each raptor had been heavily sedated and moved to individual containers, specially made to be transported by truck to the new enclosure, one at a time.

It didn't help Bobby's anxiety that the move had been delayed due to concerns about the container latches. The raptors were supposed to be just waking up when they were moved, still drowsy and disoriented. But with the delay, they now had seven containers of fully awake raptors to move, and the head of the project refused to consider a delay to try and sedate them all again. The rehearsals were foolproof, he said. It wouldn't make a difference how awake the animal was.

Bobby had a gut feeling that he was wrong. At the same time, he didn't have the authority to call off the move, leaving them in this less than ideal situation.

"I swear, even one claw comes out of that container and I'm gonna start blowin' lizard heads off. Don't care if they're 20 million a pop," Rufus said, setting his hat back on his head and moving his other hand to grip his gun. Bobby didn't try to talk him out of it. Wouldn't do any good.

"So long as everyone sticks to the program, we can pull this off," he said, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself of it more than convince Rufus. Rufus just snorted.

There was the rumble of the truck coming down the narrow path and someone yelling in Spanish, and the workers who had been waiting among the trees now moved closer to the side of the road. Bobby took a deep breath and stood up, grabbing his gun and slinging the strap over his shoulder. Rufus stood up next to him, batting insistent mosquitoes away from his face as they stepped past ferns the size of Volkswagens to get to the side of the well-worn road.

The rumble slowed, and the back-up tone started to signal as the truck backed down the short path to the gates. The gates to the new enclosure were massive, made out of solid steel almost a foot thick, heavy latches for the container to each side of the hydraulic door that would lift once everything was hooked up.

"Keep going! Yes, yes, a little more…there, stop!" the project head called out, his accent thick as he halted the truck about a foot from the gate. This was what they'd rehearsed, the series of calls and procedure coming next, though Bobby's job in this move was easy; stand by and be ready to shoot, while fully aware that he would lose his job the second he pulled the trigger. He wasn't bothering with a dart gun- he would leave that to all the other bleeding hearts standing around working security. He would be the last line of defense, and more than willing to pull the trigger on one of these animals if anything went south.

"Lower!" the project head called out, and the truck gave a hiss as the container lowered to ground level, flush with the giant tires supporting the payload. Now, with the container on their level, Bobby could see movement inside- just shadows, given that the sun had nearly set, but the floodlights above the gate occasionally lit up a swatch of brownish-green hide, or the shine of a wide green eye, pupil down to a slit in the flash of light.

Bobby had been this close before, but he still felt his pulse speed up, his heart hammering slightly harder against his ribs as he caught the creature's eye. It was only for a moment, the creature pacing the container unhappily, but it was enough to give him a chill. Then the raptor was moving again, the thud-click of every step loud on the metal container floor. Foot, claw. Foot, claw.

Before this, he'd thought the scariest thing he'd ever see was that hippo coming at his jeep full-tilt, bellowing and flashing massive ivory teeth. Now, being on this island, that same hippo seemed like an angry housecat.

"Bring it on back!" the project head yelled to the driver, and the truck began to inch its way backward, closing the distance until there was the metallic thud of the container pressing against the gate. There was a violent, guttural hiss from inside the container, and more than one man stumbled or jumped back from it.

Bobby just tightened his grip on his gun, feeling the sweat dripping down his back, plastering his shirt uncomfortably to his skin.

"Close the latches!"

Two men moved forward like clockwork, one on each side of the gate, pulling down massive metal bars and slotting them into the brackets on the side of the container. The hinges were folded around the brackets, and the men each yanked hard at the bars, making sure they were set into place, holding the gateway and the container together without a millimeter to spare.

With that done, they moved back and gave a thumbs up to the project head, who called out for the container door team. Three men moved forward, gripping the side of the container door facing the gate and slowly sliding it out, the metal grinding and leaving a deep groove in the dirt. Once the door was pulled free, they stepped back and signaled to the project head as well.

Now all they had to do was open the gateway, and if the past could be trusted, the raptor would eagerly run from the dark container into the trees and brush of its new enclosure.

"Prepare the gate!" the project head yelled, and Rufus gave the container a sour look before moving to the ladder at the back of it. He climbed to the top, where the metal was solid and thick, and walked to the front where the gate sat closed. He threw open one latch, then the other, then put his hand on the heavy black lever, waiting for his cue to start the hydraulics to pull the gate up.

"Open gate, all hands ready!"

Rufus pulled carefully and slowly on the lever, the gate hissed and began to rise, and then everything went to shit.

There was a sudden loud pop, like one of the guns had gone off, but then a rip and an even louder hiss than the hydraulics followed. The whole truck tilted violently to one side, sending workers scattering, though Bobby held his position- he knew it couldn't tip over entirely.

He saw a flash of claw before the realization set in- the raptor had clawed a huge tear in the sidewall of the tire beside the container. The metal of the latches groaned and broke free, not made to support the full weight of the container and the leaning truck, and the container dragged through the dirt to the side, pulled by the weight of the truck as it tilted.

Bobby saw Rufus fall, and he was running to the gate before the man even hit the dirt, ignoring the yells and panicked orders being flung around. He got there, seemingly, just as the raptor did- he grabbed onto one of Rufus's hands just as the man let out a piercing scream, and was nearly yanked free of Bobby's grip.

"Shoot it!" Bobby yelled, but the men were already on that, at least three darts being fired through the gaps in the container. Darts that would take a few minutes to set in. They didn't have a few minutes; Bobby got a better grip on Rufus's arms, the man's legs hidden by the shadow inside the container doorway, but Bobby could feel the raptor pulling. Rufus was screaming, a brutal, agonized sound, his voice breaking with each new pull of the raptor's teeth.

"The rifles! Shoot it! Fuckin' shoot it!" Bobby yelled, unable to get to his own gun without letting go of Rufus, and that wasn't an option. People were screaming about moving the truck, dropping the gates, but no guns went off. No one would fire, not when no one could even tell what was going on, not with their jobs on the line.

Rufus had stopped screaming by the time the raptor leapt forward, finally coming into Bobby's line of vision as it dug its claws into its twitching kill. It snapped its jaws at Bobby, barely a few inches from his face, and the hunter fell backward as a foul scent of rotting flesh and the tinny scent of fresh blood hit him. He was being dragged away, then, hands grabbing at his arms as he tried to get back to Rufus, even if it was too late, even if the sleepy raptor was digging its teeth in, the clear crunch and grind of teeth on spinal cord somehow heard even over the yelling.

He stopped fighting the worker's hold when the raptor looked back up at him, eyes focused right on his- and if Bobby didn't know better, he would have thought the creature was taunting him, Rufus's blood bright red on its snout.

**~ San Jose, August 10****th****, 2014 ~**

The only reason she sat outside was because the inside of the tiny restaurant was obnoxiously decorated; Ruby didn't want to be bombarded by bright pink and yellow lights while she ate, especially not when the floor was black and white checkered and the tables and chairs red and white. It felt like she'd damage her retinas if she spent too much time inside.

So even though the heat was still a bit much for her liking, she sat outside at one of the small tables under the red canopy emblazoned with the words "Soda Tapia", next to a Coca-Cola label which was nearly just as large. The canopy did little more than block out a little of the midday sun; shade didn't do much good, not around here.

She sipped at her drink impatiently, checking her watch more than once until she saw a familiar face over the crowd, the man sticking out like a sore thumb. Even back in the States he would have stood out, with his height, his pale skin and sunken cheeks, and the intense look on his face.

"Hey, Alistair!" she called out, lifting a hand to wave at him, and she could nearly feel as well as see the intensity of the glare he shot at her as he made his way over to the table and slid into one of the chairs.

"You really think that's a good idea, idiot girl? This city is where all of Novak's workers come when they're off the island, and you want them to know just who you're sitting down to lunch with?" he said, the nasal, slimy tone of his voice making her skin crawl even more than it did over the phone. She shrugged and went back to sipping at her drink, undeterred by his anger, and unwilling to show her discomfort and give him the edge.

"They don't care. Half of them don't even speak English, and none of them know or care who you are. Don't get a big head, you're just a messenger," she said, looking pointedly at the backpack and briefcase that he set beside his chair. "Did you bring them?"

Alistair paused for a moment, staring at her as if he expected her to wither under his gaze, like most others would; unfortunately for him, Ruby wasn't most others. Her dark eyes continued to focus on him expectantly, waiting until he finally rolled his eyes and opened the backpack. He tugged a white paper bag from it and held it out with two fingers, as if it contained something overtly disgusting.

To Ruby, it was worth a whole damn lot, and part of her payment, too. She grabbed the bag and opened it as quickly as she could, and nearly moaned when she reached into it and plucked out a golden French fry.

"Do you know how hard it is to find quality, real French fries around here?" she asked around the first bite, leaning back in her chair and savoring the taste. Alistair ignored her question, his expression doing little to hide his disdain as he waited for her to finish mooning over a bag of fried food.

"How does it feel, anyway? To know you've got nearly a billion dollars worth in technology and research riding on one woman?" she said around the second fry, giving Alistair a grin, soaking in the power she held at this moment. It was intoxicating, knowing that she had an entire company basically serving her hand and foot to keep her happy enough to make deals.

In response, Alistair just sneered, reaching down and lifting the briefcase onto the table, dropping it with a thud that made people at nearby tables jump in surprise. Ruby licked the salt from her fingers before leaning forward, trailing one hand across the leather of the case.

"I wouldn't open that here, little lady. Your advance, one point two five million. You'll get two million more for every embryo that makes it off that island and to our labs intact and viable," he said, keeping his voice low as she pulled the briefcase into her lap, her smile widening.

"Believe me, I'll get you the embryos. You worry about your end of the deal."

"What's your plan? Novak's no idiot, I'm sure he has security that will make the White House look like a daycare."

"Security that I designed and that I run. Don't you worry, I have an eighteen minute window. Eighteen minutes of complete security and communications blackout. I'll be off the island before they've even figured out I ran the program," Ruby said, crossing her legs as she set the briefcase by her feet. "Eighteen minutes, and everything that Novak has developed will be in your hands. Since you couldn't buy Tran off him."

"Tran doesn't even know what he signed up for," Alistair snapped, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "Novak plucked him right from the PhD program, spoiled him with a team and a lab complex, and the boy thinks he has it made. Novak's no better than us; he's not in this for the science. He'll stop caring about Tran the second he's wrung the boy's mind dry."

Ruby laughed, waving off a waiter who paused to offer her a refill. "Jealous," she said, raising her eyebrows at Alistair. "You just wish you'd seen his dissertation sooner and gotten to him first."

"It would have made things…so much simpler. But either way, we'll skip the catch up."

"Cheat, you mean," Ruby taunted, popping another fry into her mouth and watching the man thoughtfully. "They said you were bringing me a way to get the embryos to the mainland preserved…?"

Alistair nodded once, reaching again into his backpack, this time pulling out a pink can of ladies shaving cream and setting it on the table. Ruby arched an eyebrow before picking it up, surprised at the weight of it as she turned it over delicately in her hands.

"Twist the bottom," he said, and she turned it upright and gripped the bottom, the can emitting a low hiss as she did. The outer metal skin of the can slid off, revealing two slender, circular racks, made for holding the tiny test tubes the embryos were kept in, eight slots on each row.

"Clever. I'm impressed."

"Try using it."

She gave him a skeptical look, but then slid the can back together, took the lid off, and pressed the tab on the top down- white shaving cream filled her hand, just as if it were a normal can of shaving cream. "I'm _very_ impressed," she added, leaning over to plop the white cream down on top of a piece of pie on a nearby dessert tray.

"Get this done right, Ruby. If we go down, you're going down with us," Alistair said, the threat clear in his voice- he obviously didn't mean just in the court system, and she knew it. She wouldn't doubt for a second that they would simply have her killed if she fell through on this.

It didn't bother her, because she wasn't going to fail. She'd worked too hard on this, and put too much into the fantastic 'retirement plan' for when she disappeared after this was over. All gambling debts and loans paid, money piled up high in some foreign bank, and a new identity; she would be free to do whatever she wanted.

And it didn't hurt that she would be taking Gabriel Novak down a few notches in the process. That bastard would regret every snide comment and every time he turned her down for a raise.

"Don't you worry. You just have your guy at the docks at the agreed upon time. I'll handle the rest, and you'll get your dinosaurs," she said, frowning at the mostly empty bag of French fries. She looked up at Alistair again, raising her eyebrows with a smirk.

"Oh, and have your guy bring some more of these. Don't get cheap on me, Alistair."


	2. Negotiations

*** Isla Sorna, August 10****th****, 2014** *

If Crowley had his way, Gabriel's office would have nothing but a desk and his paperwork in it.

Of course, Crowley didn't often get his way. So Gabriel's office was filled with distracting knick-knacks, pointless objects acquired simply for their odd appearance, and that damned fish tank. The tank spanned one whole wall, floor to ceiling, and behind the glass the fish watched his every move. They were like something out of the abyss, dredged up from the very bottom of the sea, teeth so large and curved that the fish's mouth hung open like a broken screen door.

They were some kind of expensive, extinct fish. If Crowley had his way, they would have stayed extinct.

Their black eyes, large as saucers, followed his path across the room, where Gabriel was sitting with his feet propped on the desk, twisting a pen in one hand and the other holding the phone to his ear. Behind him the floor to ceiling windows looked out over an open field, where the dinosaurs with the boomerangs on their heads- Para-whatevers- were grazing by the water. Crowley didn't care what the scientific name was, as long as they made money for the company and didn't kill anyone. The boomerang-heads, as Gabriel described them, were like big dumb cows. Harmless scenery.

Gabriel was either unaware that Crowley had come in, or he didn't care, but Crowley wasn't in the mood to be polite (not that he was ever in that mood in the first place). He certainly wasn't in the mood to stand there and listen to Gabriel trying to sweet talk one of his many conquests, as it sounded like he was doing.

"No, baby, I promise! I'll come to the mainland next week. We'll go out on the town, make it special, just you and-"

Crowley leaned across the desk and grabbed the phone from Gabriel's ear, ending the call and tossing the phone on the desk. As Gabriel sputtered indignantly, he also dropped a heavy file on top of the phone and jabbed one finger at it, staring at Gabriel accusingly.

"Did you see this?"

"What, a file folder? Yeah, I tend to use those," Gabriel said with a shrug, being his petulant self, especially with his phone call rudely cut off.

"Don't play coy with me, Novak. I know they sent you a copy. Did you even read it?" Crowley asked, shoving Gabriel's feet off the desk. They fell to the floor with a thud, jerking Gabriel forward in the chair.

"Yeah, I saw it. So a guy got on the chewy side of a raptor, this shit happens! We drop some cash on the family, they're happy, we're happy, on with dino-land," Gabriel said, rising from his chair and walking around to Crowley's side of the desk. "Come on, even in zoos they've got people getting walked on by elephants, and you know what they do? They hand the elephant a paintbrush and send it right back out to the 'paint with the fuckin' elephants' kids' program. Maybe some elephant anger management therapy."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "This is not a zoo, and that is not an elephant. There Is no precedent here, which means every mistake matters. You know that as well as I do. This lawsuit has your investors scrambling for assurances that I can't give them!"

Gabriel was infuriatingly calm. As Crowley's voice rose, the young CEO sat on the edge of the desk and began digging in the bowl of candy sitting on top of a stack of files, finally plucking a Tootsie Roll from among the rest and unwrapping it with a smirk. "You and those investors. You're always so fuckin' worried. How many times do I have to say I've got this entirely under control? It was one guy. One little blip in a transfer. It's nothing."

"Nothing, eh? Well this steaming pile of _nothing_ has at least two of your investors talking about jumping ship before the whole damn thing goes down," Crowley said, and that seemed to get Gabriel's attention. It at least wiped the smirk off his face. He fought to swallow the candy quickly, narrowing his eyes at Crowley.

"They can't pull out of this. There's a contract."

"They very well can if they feel like you can't guarantee the safety of the workers and visitors on this island. They're under the impression that you can't control your critters, Novak. And unless you can prove differently, I can't keep them under my thumb until the park opens."

Gabriel groaned and rolled his eyes, standing up again and pacing over to the aquarium. The fish followed, coming closer to the glass, fins barely twitching to keep them in place as they watched.

Fuckin' creepy fish.

"What the hell do they want me to do, then? Gabriel asked, turning back around and throwing his hands in the air. "I can pay off the family, with enough zeros tacked on that funeral will become a party. We've got state of the art systems here. What more do they want? Dinosaur whisperers?"

"Of a kind."

"Well, call up Cesar Millan and tell him he's gonna need some bigger leashes," Gabriel snapped, the sarcasm practically dripping from his voice as he crossed his arms over his chest. Sometimes, Crowley wondered how such a child got so far in this business, and then he remembers seeing the numbers on the accounts that his mommy and daddy left behind when they passed.

Spoiled rich kid. He still wonders if he's shot himself in the foot, taking on this client.

"Experts, Gabriel. They want experts, and I'm not talking the guys who do maintenance on the ferris wheel at Six Flags. They want bonafide dinosaur experts signing off on this project."

Gabriel arched an eyebrow and laughed. "They do realize that all the 'dinosaur experts' that aren't on this island are sitting in piles of dirt staring at bones, right?" he asked, moving to the decorative stand near the office doors, the centerpiece of the room- a fully reconstructed skeleton of a small dinosaur. Compy-something. Crowley honestly couldn't care less.

"They don't care. They want the Winchesters. Old enough to know what the hell they're doing, popular enough in the industry that their opinion will make a difference. Though honestly, I don't think you'll get those two out here," Crowley said, watching one of the fish hover right behind Gabriel's shoulder, fins rippling in the still, dark water.

"Why the hell not? I pay for half their digs!"

Crowley snorted. "Because, Gabriel, not everyone is willing to fall at your feet and be a good little lapdog for you, unlike some of these brown nosers out here. The Winchesters are diggers. You call them and tell them you want them to drop everything and fly to a foreign country to see a nature park without telling them why you need them there? I can imagine how that would go. And if you did tell them, the pile of non-disclosure agreements would be enough to scare them right off before they step foot near a plane."

Gabriel drummed his fingers on the stand next to the skeleton, seemingly deep in thought, but Crowley knew that look. It was the look Gabriel always got when he was told he wouldn't be able to do something. And that, right there, was exactly what Crowley planned. He knew that the Winchesters would never agree to this insanity if he went, a lawyer representing Gabriel, because the Winchesters were not business people. They liked things face to face, personal.

"I'll fly out there myself and get them to come," Gabriel said stubbornly, and inside, Crowley was high fiving himself. Normally Gabriel wouldn't even think about going out and begging a few paleontologists to come to the park, but given the push of a challenge, it was inevitable; Crowley had walked him right into it.

It was genius, in his opinion.

"So what else? We grab a couple bone experts, drag them out here, make them ooh and aah, pay off the family, that good enough? Or do the investors want my balls in a vice while they're at it?" Gabriel continued, walking back behind his desk and dropping down in the chair. Crowley took the opportunity to sit in one of the chairs opposite, slouching back in it and hiking up one ankle to balance on the opposite knee. At least this way he couldn't see the mutant fish staring at him.

"They want a big name," he said, earning a roll of the eyes from Gabriel.

"I am a big fuckin' name."

"A _likeable_ big name. Someone who has a positive pull with the public. Someone who, if they're photographed lined up at an ice cream shop, by the next month that ice cream shop will have twenty more stores. They want someone outside the industry to vouch for what you've got going on here, someone who the public trusts," Crowley added, pointing at the thick file on Gabriel's desk. "Someone whose popularity will be enough to overshadow that lawsuit going public, should it happen."

Gabriel swiveled his chair back and forth, a pen already in his hand, being twirled idly between his fingers as he thought. Then, a slow smirk appeared on his face.

"How about a New York Times bestselling author with a heart of gold?"

Crowley just stared for a moment, waiting for the punch line. It didn't come. "You have got to be joking."

"Why would I be joking? My little bro is perfect. His books sell by the millions, he donates to save the starving baby whale charities and shit like that, people love the guy. If he says the place is awesome, they'll believe him."

"And just how are you going to convince him to come? Have you completely forgotten Kenya?"

Gabriel waved a hand dismissively. "Kenya was a fluke, come on. That wasn't even my fault. He knows that."

"Gabriel, he still won't go within fifteen feet of a swimming pool. He's a neurotic mess, and I don't doubt he holds you responsible for a good chunk of that," Crowley said, rolling his eyes in an almost mockery of Gabriel's earlier eye-roll. "Come up with someone else. Someone who preferably will be willing and not blackmailed into coming."

"I won't blackmail him. He loves me, I can convince him," Gabriel insisted, leaning forward on the desk. "Gimme one shot. I'll swing by his place after I snag these two Winchester guys, and if I can't convince him, we'll come up with someone else then. Have a little faith, Crowley."

"Oh, that's rich, telling a lawyer to have faith in a megalomaniac CEO."

Gabriel nearly pouted. "That's a strong word to use. I prefer to just go with heavily narcissistic."

Crowley stared at Gabriel for a few long moments, going over it in his mind. Even if Gabriel didn't manage to convince Castiel to come to the park, that would still leave them a few days to find someone with equal clout. There were always actors and actresses looking to jet off to some exotic locale; if it came down to the line, he could pull enough strings and wave some money under some noses.

"Fine. You get one shot. One visit. If he doesn't agree, then we're going with someone I pick," he said, and Gabriel pumped his fist in celebration, earning an exasperated look. "This isn't some pre-opening festivity, you know. Your investors have serious doubts about the safety of this park. If you don't get three signatures on that paper, you'll lose half your funding, at the least."

"Right, right," Gabriel said, nodding, though it was obvious he was back to not taking it very seriously. "I got it, Crowley. I'll impress them, don't worry. I'll give them the tour of their lives," he added with a grin, and Crowley shook his head and sighed before heading back to the door. As he pulled it shut behind him, he could already hear Gabriel back on the phone with whatever bimbo he'd been conversing with, apologizing and sweet talking.

He had a bad feeling about this, but no time to dwell on it. The investors were waiting to hear the game plan, and Crowley needed to sell them on it.

***Great Salt Lake Desert, Utah, August 12****th****, 2014***

"Right here. See the difference? This part is the vertebrae, and the spine runs along here, down to the tail."

Jo didn't look convinced, but Dean wasn't surprised. It was one thing for these students to sit in a perfectly clean classroom, staring at neatly excavated pieces of bone all day. It was a completely different ball game when you dropped that student in the middle of a desert and expected them to immediately be able to tell the difference between dozens of layers of rock and sand substrate and the bones they were looking for. Jo was lucky, though, because this was the perfect dig to learn on.

"Okay. I think I see it. So the hip should be somewhere around here," she guessed, pressing dusty fingers to one of the areas in which they hadn't gotten to bone yet. As soon as Dean saw a full arch of backbone, he'd called the excavation to a stop and called in the big guns.

"Right. Hip here, ribs are going to be all along here. What I'll have you doing is trenching out the area about a foot north of the spine, all the way up around the head, give it about 12 inches of clearance all the way around."

Jo looked up at him, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, but pieces of hair already rebelling and falling into her face. Her skin was slightly reddened, the result of forgetting to put on sunscreen again after she'd sweated it all off in the midday sun, but she still looked just as alert and lively as when she'd showed up that morning with donuts and coffee for everyone.

"Why aren't we doing at least a partial excavation here? Isn't this a little big to block and send back to Chicago in one piece?" she asked, and Dean chuckled, standing up before his knees started screaming at him for squatting down so long. Jo followed suit, standing and wincing when her back audibly popped.

"Jo, how many complete Utahraptor skeletons have been found?"

"Complete? None."

"Exactly," Dean said, pointing down at the exposed sections of spine. "This looks like it might be complete. And if it is, man, we've got it _made_. I'm not taking chances on this one, not so late in the season. Not enough time to be choosy about what condition it's in. We'll trench around it, block it out, jacket it in some plaster, and get it to the lab before the weather changes on us. A lot easier on the specimen than trying to excavate and properly preserve, catalogue, and pack it one piece at a time."

Jo smirked. "The museum's gonna love the shipping fees on this."

"Nah, we'll just have the FedEx guy come pick it up. 9 foot tall raptor skeleton trapped in a couple tons of rock and dirt, not a problem."

Jo tilted her head back and laughed, and Dean smiled; she really was pretty. If they had met in a bar he may have started hitting on her, but instead, they'd spent the summer covered in dirt and dust and passing tools back and forth while he showed her how useless all her textbook learning had been for field work. She was more like a little sister now, carefully taken under his wing.

Also, her mother was slightly terrifying, so there was that.

"Dean! Jo! Come over here!"

Dean turned and stepped carefully over the ropes they had strung around the section of rock that hid the fossil from view, Jo following closely as they made their way to the small white tent, stepping around the people working on other parts of the dig. Sam sat at a rickety fold-up table inside the tent, bent over the laptop in front of him. The tent was barely big enough for the table and the ground penetrating unit behind it, just enough protection to keep the equipment from getting battered with dust.

"Got somethin'?" Dean asked, leaning over Sam's shoulder to see the laptop screen. The loading bar at the bottom of the program was nearly full, crawling its way steadily to the right.

"I imported all the data from all three locations and it's compiling now. If this thing is as good as they claimed, we should have a 3D shot of the entire skeleton," Sam explained, already looking way too excited about this. This was why Dean let him handle the computers and fancy equipment; Dean would rather be out there working on preserving this thing and getting it ready for transport.

But he had to admit, having a full 3D picture of exactly what they were dealing with would be really nice. They would not only know if it was a full skeleton, but also find out a lot quicker where they needed to trench.

"Don't get used to this fancy shit, Jo. Most of the digs you work at you'll be lucky to have secondhand chisels," Dean joked, and Jo raised an eyebrow.

"What makes this dig so special?"

"Hell if I know. Novak Industries has a boner for the Field Museum, for some reason. I'm not complainin'," Dean said with a shrug. For the past few years, their program had flourished, most of it in thanks to Gabriel Novak. The dude ran nature parks and theme parks, but for some reason, he'd showed up at the curator's office one day and asked to fund their digs. All he wanted in return was to have real-time access to their research.

Given the number of zeroes on those checks, it didn't seem like much to ask.

And now this behemoth, the ground penetrating radar system. A rep from Novak Industries had brought it directly to the dig site, saying it was a 'bonus' for their hard work. Dean thought it sounded like bullshit, but Sam was already salivating over the $20,000 piece of equipment, and it would look bad enough to return a gift- even worse, return it with drool stains from a techno-geek.

It was a big deal. Digs sometimes had GPR units, but they were temperamental, and the results weren't that useful. To Dean, it just looked like grey and white smudges and dots on the screen. Somehow, Sam could make sense of the crap and plot it out to approximate points on the ground they were working on.

This thing, though, this was brand new, and evidently created by a team Novak hired, considering the bold "Novak Industries" logo emblazoned on the side. You supposedly rolled the machine to three different spots on the ground near the fossil, ran the machine at each location, uploaded the results to a computer, and the program that came with it would compile it into a clear-as-day 3D image of the subsurface.

Dean had his reservations, but he was nearly as curious as Sam was.

The bar hit the end and the picture came up, and Dean's breath caught. It was a top-down angle right now, and even just from that he could see that they'd hit the jackpot, both with the dig and the machine. The skeleton looked complete; from the well-defined skull all the way down to the massive claw on each hind foot. It looked like the bones of the arms had deteriorated a lot, but if they were careful, they could still reconstruct the broken pieces.

"Wow," Jo whispered, leaning forward as Sam dragged the mouse across the picture, tilting it downward and then around. Every angle was crystal clear, white bone against dark grey rock, and Sam let out a low whistle- over the machine or the fossil, Dean didn't know. Probably both.

"Damn, this guy needed a dentist. Check out the pitting below the teeth there," Dean said as the skull came into view, focusing on pockets of missing bone where infection had likely set in. It was a full grown Utahraptor, and without the presence of other injuries, he felt pretty safe in guessing that it died after the infected teeth made it impossible to eat properly. Not a pleasant death.

"How tall do you think it is? 8 feet?" Sam asked, and Dean shook his head.

"Looks more like nine, if the feet are where I think they are out there. Might be closer to ten."

"Dude, stop exaggerating, it's not ten."

"And here I thought boys were experts in exaggerating size," Jo said, but before Dean could smack her for the comment, the sound of a helicopter cut through the air. And it sounded close.

"What the hell…?" Dean muttered, straightening up and stepping out of the tent as the sound got even louder, wind cutting across the ground from the direction of their mess tent. The thing had to be landing in the clearing back there, and making a damn mess while it did.

"Cover the site!" he yelled to the confused workers, and Jo immediately grabbed for the tarps they saved for covering the fossils at night, starting to hand them out. Dean left her to it; he had a bone to pick with a pilot.

He stalked around the mess tent, and sure enough, the helicopter sat in the clearing behind it, winding down but still making a ridiculous amount of noise. Dean started to yell some choice words at the guy, but the pilot just shook his head and pointed. And when Dean followed the gesture, he saw that the door to their motorhome was standing wide open.

The motorhome was off-limits- that was where he and Sam stayed on digs, where they kept all the important crap that shouldn't get covered in dirt and grime. And someone had just hopped out of a chopper and barged into what amounted to their house?

Yeah. Whoever this was, Dean was probably going to punch them.

He jogged to the open door and was up the steps in record time, and when his eyes adjusted from the bright light outside, his fists clenched. Some short asshole had helped himself to a bottle of whiskey, and was presently sitting on the counter beside the sink, sniffing it like some kind of wine.

"You know, you should buy better shit than this, being stuck in the desert," the guy said, and Dean stormed around the island and grabbed the guy by the collar of his shirt.

"Who the _hell_ are you and what the _hell_ are you doing in here?" he snapped, but the guy didn't even seem fazed. He chuckled and reached up with the hand that wasn't holding the whiskey, patting Dean on the arm.

"Just checking up on my investment, Dean-o. I can see you've been spending the money on plaid shirts instead of decent booze," he said with a smirk. "Gabriel Novak. Nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester."

Dean let go of the guy's shirt like it had caught fire under his hands. He opened his mouth, tried to speak, but nothing came out, and hell. Really? He'd just assaulted Gabriel Novak. The guy who was funding this dig. And every dig for the past three years.

"Jesus Christ, you couldn't…I don't know, call ahead? Give us a heads-up?" he managed, just as Sam stepped inside, Jo not far behind him.

"Okay, who's the _jerk_-" Sam started, and Dean cleared his throat. Loudly.

"Sam, this is…Gabriel Novak," he explained, and he was pretty sure Sam's face went a few shades paler.

"Oh, I…I didn't mean 'jerk', I just…"

Gabriel laughed, hopping off the counter and reaching out to shake Dean's hand, then Sam's. "Nah, go ahead, call me every name in the book. I interrupted your digging, after all, but not without damn good reason," he said, catching sight of Jo as she stepped out from behind Sam. "Who's the lovely lady?"

Jo snorted, shaking his offered hand. "Don't flatter me, I'm covered in dirt. Jo Harvelle."

"She's doing her graduate work, she's been interning on our digs all summer," Dean explained, still in a state of shock. What was a millionaire doing in the middle of the desert in Utah? Why now? He figured if the guy ever showed up in person, it would be with an entourage and a whole lot of expectations. This dude just stole their shitty whiskey.

"Well. I don't want to take too much of your time, so let's get down to business, shall we?" Gabriel said, grabbing three more glasses and pouring whiskey for the three of them, as if he weren't the guest here. "I love your work. I do. Your research has been instrumental in some of my endeavors, to say the least."

Sam looked skeptical. "What kind of endeavors?"

Gabriel waved a hand at him, like a pesky mosquito. "I'm not going to smother you with details here. That's why I have scientists. I hire them to explain shit to people for me so I don't have to do it. And really, I'm here to reward your stellar efforts."

Dean took the offered glass of whiskey- he had the feeling he'd need it for this. "Thought the GPR unit was our reward," he said, his tone holding a note of suspicion. If Gabriel noticed, he didn't bother acknowledging it.

"The GPR unit was just a bonus. This, though…what I've got for you today, it's a true reward. A break from all your hard work. A sort of…vacation for you two."

Sam laughed. "A vacation? All due respect, sir, but we've got a raptor to get out of the ground before winter hits, and then we're needed back at the labs-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're busy. I know. But this isn't your average vacation," Gabriel said, waggling his eyebrows at them. Dean kind of shuddered; he could do without the suggestive sleaziness from this guy. "I have a new park opening. A sort of nature preserve, off the coast of Costa Rica. Bought a whole island chain for it, it's a paradise, I'm telling you."

"What kind of nature park?" Jo asked with a frown, tugging the band from her hair and letting it fall free across her shoulders- along with a shower of dust from it.

"The kind that you'll like. It's right up your alley," Gabriel said, but Dean was already shaking his head, leaning back against the counter.

"Not a good time, man. We've gotta keep this site on schedule, we can't afford to waste time and get this thing damaged," he said, leaving out the unspoken 'and I am not sitting on a plane for hours on end thank you very much'.

"Already have you covered. I talked to the head of your department, and he's got replacements coming in to wrap up your dig and get everything sent back safely. Guys with as much field experience as you."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Why are you so eager to give us a _vacation_?"

The CEO's honey brown eyes seemed to light up at that, almost mischievous. "Because while you're having the best vacation of your lives, you'll be doing me a favor. See, I have to deal with investors who have ridiculous expectations. They've got their lawyers up my ass about the new park just because I don't have any outside opinions on it yet. So, all I need is for you to fly down for the weekend, enjoy yourselves, and then sign a paper saying how totally awesome it was before you leave. Easy stuff. The investors are happy, the lawyers are happy, I'm happy, you're happy."

"Why would your investors care what we think about a nature park?" Sam asked, barely beating Dean to the question. Something was off here. They were paleontologists; they should be bringing in biologists, zoologists, the scientists that would really know their shit about Costa Rican ecology. Not them.

"The investors said 'experts'. They didn't say what kind. I like you guys, so I picked you. You've been working too hard anyway, you could use a break," Gabriel said, and then he winked at Jo. "You should come, too. It'd be nice to get an opinion from the fairer sex."

Dean sighed and set down the whiskey, cutting Jo off from what would likely be an insulting comment in Gabriel's direction. "Look, we really can't. As much as we appreciate the…completely weird offer, we have a ton to do here-"

Gabriel was ignoring him, and instead had pulled out his checkbook and flipped to a blank check, jotting down the Field Museum Department of Paleontology on the line. Then he wrote 50,000 on the cash line, raising an eyebrow at Dean.

"I'm serious, this is a really bad time to just be taking off from the dig, and the labwork-"

Gabriel added another zero at the end. Dean's eyes went wide, and he glanced uncertainly at Sam, who looked just as torn as he was. That was…a hell of a lot of money, for them to come spend a couple of days on an island. That could fund their digs for the next year, maybe two.

Gabriel smirked, then lowered the pen again, and with one careful swipe turned the 5 into a 9.

The silence was thick enough to hear a pin drop, then Sam laughed nervously.

"When does the plane leave?"

***New York City, New York, August 13****th****, 2014***

Castiel was dead tired.

He dragged his suitcase up the short walk to his door, the rumble of the rollers obnoxiously loud on the quiet street until he lifted the suitcase up the three steps. He unlocked his door with a sigh, then pushed it shut and went to the alarm panel to turn the alarm off.

Except…the alarm wasn't going off.

He stiffened as he heard a sound from the kitchen, and he left the suitcase by the door, instead moving as quietly as he could to grab a poker from the fireplace. He was certain that whoever it was, they could probably already hear his heart beating, the way it was pounding against his ribs in time with the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

There was light streaming from under the kitchen door, and he edged toward it, adjusting his grip on the poker before he shoved the door open and stepped through. He started to swing at the figure by the fridge- until the man turned, and Castiel saw his face.

He barely managed to stop his swing in time, and even then he would have hit Gabriel in the face had the other man not stumbled back in surprise. He was holding a beer, and looking at Castiel with some mix of amusement and pride.

"Nice swing, little bro! Though, gotta say, I hope you don't greet all your guests with a poker to the face," he said, and Castiel dropped the poker heavily on the counter, fear being quickly replaced by anger.

"What are you doing here? How did you even get in?!" he demanded as Gabriel opened the beer and took a swig.

"Relax, I had a copy of your key made last time I visited. Just in case."

"And the _alarm_?"

"Had Charlie sync my phone up with your security system. I can turn off your alarm from Costa Rica, bro."

Castiel just stared for a few seconds, and then he laughed in disbelief. He clenched his jaw and grabbed the beer from Gabriel's hands, slamming it down on the counter, and then grabbed Gabriel by the shoulder and pushed him toward the door.

"Out. Get out of my house, Gabriel, and I'm changing my locks, and my alarm, and I swear to God I will not hesitate to hit you in the face if you show up again-"

"Wait, wait! Come on, Cas, I need to talk to you. Gimme ten minutes. Five, even," Gabriel said, twisting free of Castiel's grip and giving him a pleading look. He held up his hands, as if trying to calm an angry dog, and Castiel just glared.

"You didn't even come to the hospital, Gabriel. I was in a Kenyan hospital in a coma for four days, and you couldn't even spare an hour? And now you show up here, three years later, and you want to _talk_?!"

"I did send flowers…"

Castiel tensed and closed his eyes, pressing his fingers to his temples and just trying not to lash out and punch Gabriel in the face. "Gabriel. Get out. Now."

"Five minutes, Cas? Please? Come on, I'm in a bind. I need your help," Gabriel said, and Castiel opened his eyes, for the first time that night seeing something other than a smirk on Gabriel's face. He actually looked worried. Castiel ran his hand down his own face with a sigh, and then he leaned back against the kitchen counter.

"Five minutes. That's all you're getting."

Gabriel clapped his hands together and grinned, reaching again for the beer sitting on the counter. "Thanks, bro. Listen, I know I haven't been around lately, but I'm telling you, I have a damn good reason. A really damn good reason. As in like, world changing."

"World changing," Castiel repeated dryly, giving Gabriel a look. It didn't seem to discourage him.

"Yeah. And I need your help. Just for one weekend, and believe me, you'll love it."

Castiel turned away and opened a cabinet, pulling out a bottle of vodka and a glass. "You know, I seem to remember you saying that before you stuck me on a boat with a completely insane tour guide who proceeded to get us _capsized by a hippo_."

"Come on, Kenya was a fluke. It was three years ago! I've matured. I've grown. Learned from my mistakes," Gabriel insisted, earning another humorless laugh from Castiel, who was pouring himself a generous amount of vodka. And then, after a pause, pouring a little more. "Look, this is different. It's an island, off the coast of Costa Rica, and I've got it turned into this amazing preserve-"

"A preserve?" Castiel repeated, voice rough from just having taken a long drink from his glass. "So you're saying you show up here three years after nearly getting me killed touring one of your nature preserves because you need me to _tour another nature preserve_?"

"This is different! No hippos, for one thing. And no boats involved. And no tour guides, either!" Gabriel insisted, eyes bright with excitement. Meanwhile, Castiel could already feel his stomach churning over all this. "I learned from that. Safety is the number one concern on this island. State of the art systems, top of the line."

Castiel stared into his glass, then took another long pull off it; he definitely wasn't drunk enough for this. "What the hell is in Costa Rica that you felt inspired to make a preserve for? Boa constrictors? Monkeys?" he asked, stalling the inevitable. Gabriel gave him a mischievous look.

"If I told you, then you wouldn't be surprised, Cas."

"Yeah, well, I've had enough of your surprises already for a lifetime. The answer is no," Castiel said, reaching for the bottle again, only to be stopped by Gabriel's hand on his arm. He sighed, looking back up at his older brother.

"I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't really important, Castiel. I've got investors on my ass. They want expert opinions on the preserve or they're gonna yank the rug out from under me. I've already got a couple scientist-types signed on, but they want someone more influential. And I thought, hey, what's more influential than the guy selling millions of books every week?" he said, and Castiel fell silent for a few moments. He should say no. He should say _hell_ no, and kick Gabriel out on his ass. Hell, when he was in the hospital, Anna jumped on a plane and spent a day and a half getting there to be with him; Gabriel was in the same country and evidently couldn't be bothered.

"Just a couple days, Cas. You fly out, you relax in a tropical paradise for the weekend, watch some pretty animals, sign a sheet of paper that says it's totally a cool place, and that's all. Really. I know I screwed up and I know I don't deserve your help, but my back's against a wall here," Gabriel continued, his voice softer now. Castiel set down his glass and shook his head, wishing the vodka would kick in quicker.

"Even if I wanted to, Gabriel, I have meetings all weekend with the reps for the European branch of the publisher, we're working on getting translations sorted out."

"I know. I called your agent and got her to reschedule."

Castiel looked up with a glare, and Gabriel shrugged. "What? I knew you'd use it as an excuse, and hey, even if you don't go you get the weekend off now. Win-win."

Castiel sighed again. "Gabriel, you are the most narcissistic, presumptuous, self-important asshole I know."

"…Is that a yes?"

Castiel closed his eyes again and shook his head. "I can't believe I'm going along with this."

He opened his eyes again to see Gabriel smiling brightly, tugging a paper out of his jacket. "You won't regret this, Cas, I promise. This is going to be one of the best weekends of your life! Here, that's your flight info, and I'll be meeting you at your last stop to take a helicopter the last leg."

"You made reservations already. Of course you did," Castiel said, taking the paper with a wince. He'd played right into Gabriel's hands, he was sure, but there was no time to say he'd changed his mind. Gabriel was already headed for the door.

"Well, gotta run, lots of stuff to get ready for you guys! No mosquito nets and tents this time, Cas, five star resort all the way! You're going to love this," he said with a wink, and then he was gone, and Castiel heard the front door open and shut again. He slowly turned around and leaned forward, slamming his head against the counter with a groan of frustration.

"I am a _colossal_ idiot."


	3. Missy

***~~ ****Juan Santamaría International Airport, August 15****th****, 2014 ~~***

Dean was going to fire Sam. He was going to fire Jo, too. No severance packages, no unemployment, just a boot in their ass as he kicked them out the door onto their asses.

Well. Not out the door right now, considering they were 35,000 feet in the air. Not that it wasn't still tempting.

"Dude, you've eaten so many of those that if you shake hands with someone who's allergic to peanuts in the next five days, they'll keel over dead," Sam said with a grin, referring to the crumpled, empty bag of crappy airplane peanuts currently crushed in Dean's hand. Dean didn't even like peanuts, let alone crappy, stale airplane peanuts, but they'd cut him off from the whiskey after two shots. Sam didn't want him to be drunk when they landed and met Gabriel at the chopper.

Right now, Dean didn't care, and wanted to be spectacularly drunk for the rest of this torture.

"Shut up, Sam, or I will push you out of the chopper," he threatened in return, though it was hardly an effective threat given that his voice was a tense mutter and his hands were still clutching the arms of his seat with a death grip. By the end of this flight he would have carpal tunnel in both of them. Or arthritis. Something.

Jo smirked, though she didn't raise her eyes from the book that was settled in her lap. It was one of Dean's that he'd leant her, the pages dog-eared and the cover battered from both multiple read-throughs and surviving multiple dig sites. It was the newest thriller out by Castiel Novak, and Dean had a brief moment of wondering if the last name wasn't coincidence, if he was related to Gabriel. Seemed unlikely though, a billionaire CEO and a New York Times bestselling author being in the same family.

Then again, he and Sam both turned out to be giant nerds for dinosaur bones. Although Dean would swear till his dying day that he was way cooler than Sam; paleobotany seemed really freaking boring. At least Dean dug up dinosaurs. Sam got excited when they found a full leaf impression on a dig.

The pilot's voice came over the intercom, telling flight attendants to prepare for final approach, and Dean took a deep breath. It was almost over. Maybe once they got back from the island he could convince Sam to rent a car and roadtrip back with him. That sounded infinitely better than getting back on an aluminum tube of death.

He turned up the music on the IPod Sam had let him borrow for the trip, trying to drown out the escalating whine of the engines with Metallica, and closing his eyes so he didn't have to see the amused looks on Sam's and Jo's faces. Fuck them. It was a fucking aluminum tube of death with wings, and nothing was going to convince him otherwise.

Only when he felt the jolt of the plane's wheels striking the pavement did Dean open his eyes again, swallowing down the lump in his throat and taking in deep breaths as he looked out the window. He didn't know what he expected, maybe something more subdued and stucco, but this was not it at all. The airport was all concrete and glass, the roofs arched and bright red over the industrial-like façade. A line of creepily-matching red taxis sat lined up at the largest building, almost like they designed the taxis to match the roof.

Past that, though, he could see the hazy, dark outline of low mountains through the heavy mist that hung around them like a curtain, and past the asphalt runways there was green everywhere, dotted by buildings that stuck out garishly on the side of the mountains, most of them below the fog that hid the peaks from view.

"It's gorgeous," Jo said from the other side of Sam, leaning forward in her seat to see out the window, the book sitting open straddling her knee to keep her place.

"Gorgeous and probably full of giant snakes and spiders the size of your head," Dean pointed out, not feeling charitable to the locale while his stomach was still trying to twist itself into knots. He didn't know if the chopper would be any better, considering he'd never been on one, but he didn't have high hopes. It seemed to be just a slightly smaller aluminum tube of death, but with death blades on the top.

The airplane finally slowed to a stop next to the terminal, and Dean heaved a sigh of relief, fingers already scrabbling at the buckle on his seat belt. (Why did they even have seat belts? If the plane crashed you were fucked. And the seat belt wasn't even long enough to strangle yourself with on the way down. Useless.) Trapped in as he was at the window seat, Dean could only wait and bounce his leg impatiently as the passengers in the front cabin gathered their things and filed out.

The jetway wasn't airtight against the side of the plane, so the first taste they got of Costa Rican weather was the blast of hot, sticky air as they stepped off the plane. Jo wrinkled her nose and was already reaching into her pocket for a hair tie, and Dean suddenly found himself missing the dry heat of Utah- this heat was tropical, thick and oppressive. Like it was trying to gather enough moisture in the air to drown you by just breathing.

"Here's to hoping the place we're staying has air conditioning," Jo muttered as they stepped off the jetway into the terminal, and also into the blessed air conditioning of the airport. Dean wondered if the air conditioning for the whole airport had strained their budget- because judging by the garish, retina-scarring green pattered carpet, they didn't put a huge amount of money into an interior designer.

"You never complained at the dig," Sam pointed out, and Jo snorted.

"That's because if someone complains about being hot on a dig, you sneak into their hotel room and dump ice water on them in the middle of the night," Jo pointed out, giving them both a look. "Plus, that is not the same kind of hot as _this _hot."

Dean nodded, hitching his backpack up higher on his shoulder. "Gotta agree with you there."

"Where are we supposed to meet this guy, anyway?"

"He said they'd have someone at the baggage claim to help with the bags," Sam said, weaving as conspicuously as the giant he was, past tourists in wide brimmed hats and sandals and families wrangling their overly excited children. The three of them stuck out in comparison, in their work boots and beat up jeans and shirts- it wasn't like they'd had time to go home and properly pack some normal clothes, so they'd combed through the clothes they had on hand and tried to pick the items that weren't torn or had dust ground into the seams. Easier said than done, when you're on your ass in the dirt half the day.

They had just turned the corner to the baggage claim when a man in a dark suit spotted them, immediately locking on and making his way through the crowd toward them. Either this was their guy, or they were about to get offered drugs to smuggle through for some local mafia, because the guy was creepily overdressed.

"Well, I almost didn't believe Gabe when he told me I wouldn't need a greeting sign to find you three, but it seems he was right. The moose gives you away," the man said with a low voice tinged with a British accent, and Dean could practically feel the eye roll that Sam wanted to give him but was holding back out of politeness. "Fergus Crowley. Just Crowley, for you. I'm the private attorney for Novak Industries," he continued, shaking each of their hands in turn.

Dean could already tell he wasn't going to like this smarmy dick.

"I'm Sam. That's Dean, and this is Jo Harvelle, one of our interns," Sam said, luckily handling the introductions for them while Dean was still imagining that his hand felt slimier after this guy touched it.

"A pleasure. Must be a pleasant change from your everyday dirt and bones," Crowley said, and Dean almost laughed.

"You know, I think I prefer the dirt and bones so far."

Their conversation was interrupted by the shrill dinging sound that signified the baggage carousel starting up, and Crowley turned and whistled to a woman and a baggage handler standing by the doors. The woman took her time in putting her phone away before she sauntered over, her brown hair falling in thick waves around her shoulders.

Okay, she was kind of hot. Dean could get on board with this.

"Are these our dinosaur experts?" she asked Crowley, not shy about giving them each a long once-over, arching her eyebrow at them. "Somehow I expected more Jack Horner and less male model in bad clothes."

Dean could just tell Jo was about to say something, but Crowley beat her to it. "Don't let Meg here bother you too much. We didn't hire her for her charm," he said, and Meg smirked, locking eyes with Dean. And when she locked eyes, it was like a freaking staring contest from hell; Dean was suddenly focusing less on how hot she was, and more focusing on if she might be Novak Industry's hitman or something.

"Meg Masters. I'll be your pilot on our little jump to the island," she elaborated, but Dean was still unconvinced that she didn't have a side job where she stole kidneys for a living. She definitely didn't look the part of a helicopter pilot.

"Is Mr. Novak already on the island?" Sam asked, and Crowley snorted.

"Please, just call him Gabriel, he doesn't do well with honorifics and certainly doesn't deserve them. And no, he'll be meeting us at the helicopter with our other guest for the tour. He flew in earlier today," Crowley explained, leading the way over to the moving baggage carousel, which now had quite a few bags circling on it. Crowley and Meg stood off to the side chatting as Dean and Sam stood by, grabbing their bags as they slid by.

"Well, that's kind of more what I expected with big business," Sam said, throwing an uncertain glance toward the pair before hefting Jo's duffel bag off the carousel and onto the floor.

"He is a lawyer. I think they only come in flavors of sleazy and super sleazy," Dean said, and Jo groaned.

"Please, do not talk about that guy's _flavor_. You're giving me mental pictures I could go a lifetime without seeing," she said as the baggage handler who'd been with Meg took Jo's duffel from the floor and set it onto a waiting cart. Dean winced and grabbed the next bag, a large duffel that would be identical to his were it not for the lack of duct tape wrapped around part of the strap. He slid Sam's duffel across the floor to the baggage handler, who put that on the cart as well.

"Well, I doubt he'll make us spend much time with a lawyer if he wants us to enjoy the vacation," Sam pointed out, watching the bags go by, everything from hot pink suitcases to hastily duct taped cardboard boxes. "Wonder who the other guest he mentioned is, though."

Dean shrugged. "Probably some stuffy academic. Who cares?"

The final bag came around, and Dean grabbed it and hauled it off the belt, sliding that one over to the baggage handler as well. Crowley seemed to notice that they were stepping away from the throng of people standing around the edge of the carousel, and he tugged out a wad of the local currency, pulling 2 10,000 notes from the bundle and holding them out to the man. "To the helipad, my friend, and make it fast. Rápido," he said, and the man took the bill and nodded, and he was off through the crowd like a bullet. Dean could already see the headlines; toddler gets run over by baggage cart, baggage handler says 'totally worth it for the tip'.

"Well then. Shall we?" Crowley said, and Sam frowned a little.

"We should stop and exchange some money while we're here, shouldn't we?"

Crowley laughed and clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder, starting to lead the way. "You won't need any. You're a guest, you'll get everything you need pro bono," he insisted, and Dean and Jo shared a wary look before following. They were going to be on a private island; he was probably right.

"So, what kind of park is this?" Jo asked Meg, who was trailing behind them as if to make sure they weren't going to bail. Meg smirked, her hands tucked in her pockets as they walked.

"Can't say. Lawyer up there had me sign so many non-disclosure agreements that I think Novak owns my soul by now," she said, her voice like a purr, smooth and rich. "But I can tell you that when you leave, you'll wish you could have stayed your whole life instead of three days. Hell, I'm not a nature person, and I put up with the bugs and humid-ass climate to go out there."

"I thought this was a nature preserve," Dean said, getting an uneasy feeling. There was something big here, a puzzle piece they weren't being shown yet. "What the hell is in a nature preserve that would make me want to camp out in this crap?"

Meg laughed and tossed him a wink. "I guess you'll see when we get there, won't you?"

Dean wasn't happy with that response, but he didn't ask any more questions, knowing that he wasn't going to get more than vague answers. Nothing about this made sense, though; every time Novak Industries had opened a park before now, it was a media frenzy. It was all over the news, showing clips and highlights from private tours, and every detail hashed out in the spotlight. If this park was so great, why hadn't they heard about it by now? It was surely close to being ready to open if they were doing private tours, and yet there had been no press on the subject. Nothing.

The whole thing was making him feel uneasy, and he could tell by the slight frown on her face that Jo was thinking the same thing. Sam was up front talking to Crowley about something, but the space had widened between them and the chatter of people around them and the intercom above made it impossible to hear what they were saying. Maybe Sam would find out more than they did.

He nearly groaned when the automatic doors slid open and they were once again blasted with a blanket of humid, hot air, but they didn't have far to go; a blue van was parked outside, sticking out like a sore thumb among the endless red taxis, and the logo for Novak Industries was plastered across the side of it in stark white lettering. The driver was already at the back door, sliding it open and waiting until Sam, Jo, Dean, and Meg had climbed in before he shut the door and walked around; Crowley settled into the front passenger seat, twisting around to look at them.

"Won't be a long ride. Don't get comfy," he said as the van pulled away from the curb, cutting through gaps in the taxi traffic that Dean wouldn't even try to make in a Smart Car. Meg was back on her phone, fingers tapping at the screen, either texting or playing a game; Dean couldn't tell from where he sat on the bench seat in front of her.

"How long is the chopper ride?" Sam asked, and Meg rolled her eyes, glancing up from her phone only for a moment.

"Do yourself a favor, sasquatch, and don't call them choppers. You sound like a five year old," she said, swiping her finger across the phone's screen. "It's a 2 hour flight, normally, but I'm damn good and the weather's clear, so I can cut fifteen minutes off that."

Dean winced and slouched down in his seat. Two more hours of being way too far above the ground for his liking. Gabriel was rich enough, he should have built a bridge or something.

And there was another thought. Surely they weren't going to take all the guests out to the island like this, by private helicopter; but people could hardly drive out there.

"How are people going to get to the park? I mean, it's going to have a lot of visitors, right?" he asked, and Crowley met his gaze in the rearview mirror.

"Helicopter or boat transportation is included in the eight thousand dollars a night price tag," he said with a rather pleased look, and Dean didn't even have to look to know that Sam's and Jo's jaws dropped at the same time his did.

"Eight thousand dollars a night?! Who the hell is going to pay that to see an island?"

"Oh, a whole lot of people, Winchester. A hell of a lot," Crowley said, looking back forward as the van pulled to a stop beside the helipad. "Believe me…we have no worries about filling the rooms. In fact, I do believe we'll be booked up a couple years in advance, at least. Might have to extend the park to the other islands."

Dean was glad they had to get out of the van, because otherwise he was going to tell Crowley exactly how much bullshit that sounded like. No one paid eight thousand dollars for one night on an island unless there were orgies involved or something. He gave Sam a look of disbelief, and his brother could only shrug. Meg was already making a beeline for the helicopter, the machine itself a dark navy blue like the van, complete with the Novak Industries logo across the side.

A sleek black car pulled up behind the van, and Gabriel was stepping out even as it was still rolling to a stop, the usual bright smile plastered on his face. "There's my favorite group of bone diggers! Have a good flight?" he asked, and Sam elbowed Dean before he got past opening his mouth to say he'd rather have a colonoscopy than get back on another plane.

"It was fine, thanks," Jo said, and Dean's attention was drawn to the person getting out of the other side of the black car. He looked familiar; dark hair that looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, blue eyes…he was sure he'd seen the guy before. Of course, he wasn't sure how he could forget if he had; that was a face he'd remember. He usually went for people of a more female persuasion, but the closer the guy got, the further his Kinsey scale was tipping.

"C'mere, Cas! This is Castiel, my little brother. He's going on the tour with you guys," Gabriel said, pulling Castiel in close with an arm around his shoulders. Castiel was obviously not too happy about it, but he indulged the shorter man.

Then, the light in Dean's head went on.

"Wait, Castiel Novak? As in, the writer?" he asked, suddenly realizing why the guy looked familiar- some of his books had his headshot on the back cover. And while enough to give him pause, the headshots didn't nearly do justice to the real thing.

Castiel smiled, almost looking shy. "Yes, the writer. Though for the next three days I suppose my title is guinea pig," he said, shooting Gabriel a look, which was promptly ignored.

"Don't let Cas bring you down. He hates vacations. Workaholic," Gabriel said as the helicopter motor began to growl and the rotors slowly began to turn. Crowley was just watching the baggage handler put the rest of the bags into the chopper, so it seemed like it was almost time to go.

Jo held up the book from her bag almost sheepishly. "Reading your newest right now, actually. It's really good," she said, and Castiel seemed genuinely pleased that someone was complimenting his work. The smile made Dean's breath catch; he took in every detail, the crow's feet that got accentuated when he smiled, the way his shoulders seemed to relax.

Yeah, this guy just dropped a boulder on the 'homo' end of his Kinsey Scale.

"Stop makin' his head bigger. Cas, these are the paleontologists I mentioned. Dean and Sam Winchester, and Jo Harvelle," Gabriel said, gesturing to each of them in turn, and Dean found himself impressed that the guy remembered Jo's name after only meeting her once. Castiel shook each of their hands, the smile back to one of those polite smiles that didn't quite make it to his eyes. Dean would have to get him to smile for real more often on the trip, he decided.

"Well, enough talk about literary achievements, let's get this show on the road," Gabriel said, stopping and patting Sam on the shoulder. "Be sure to duck, skyscraper. We're gonna need your head to stay attached to your shoulders for the weekend," he teased before heading for the chopper, not having to duck at all himself.

"What, swallow a lemon?" Dean said to Sam as he passed him, seeing the sour look on his face from the teasing, which Dean was more than willing to join in on. That's what brothers were for, right?

He'd been distracted from the impending flight by the mystery of the park and the fact that he was basically a starstruck teenager, but now as he grudgingly walked toward the helicopter, he could feel the anxiety setting in all over again. The rotors buffeted the air in rhythm now, the wind pushing at him as he ducked slightly to get to the door. The motor was too loud to be heard over, but he climbed in and took a seat, away from the window this time. There were two bench seats in the chopper, one facing forward and the other towards the back, so Dean had Sam and Jo on each side of him, and across from him Castiel was settling in between Gabriel and Crowley. He looked about as thrilled to be here as Dean was, but Dean had the feeling it wasn't because of the helicopter ride. It didn't take much to notice the tension between Gabriel and Castiel, like Castiel was just trying to tolerate his brother, and it left Dean wondering if there was more to the story.

Crowley pulled the door shut, and evidently they had some damn good soundproofing in this thing, because the sound of the helicopter was cut down to over half of what it had been. It was quiet enough to speak at a normal level and not struggle to hear each other, though the air was so thick with tension that Dean wasn't sure there would be much conversation on the flight.

Dean's leg was already bouncing with nervousness, his hands tightening into fists and relaxing over and over on his knees as he tried to tell himself that this was different. That it was somehow safer than a plane. It wasn't helping much; the three across from him had already taken notice of his nervous tics.

"Guess I should have had her stock this thing up on whiskey, huh?" Gabriel said, and Castiel snorted softly.

"Wouldn't that have been nice," he muttered, already pulling a beat up notebook out of his bag and tugging the pen free from where it was clipped on the spiral. Well, at least they seemed to have two things in common; a need for alcohol in stressful situations, and a dislike of technology. Though he couldn't imagine that he wrote his books entirely by hand, that would take a really, really long time.

"Don't mind Dean. He has this thing about flying," Jo said, earning a glare from Dean even though she was just saying out loud what everyone else had already likely figured out.

Still. He was still going to fire her and Sam when they got back from the trip. Fire them with extreme prejudice.

His whole body stiffened when the helicopter lifted off the ground, and no, he definitely did not like this better than the plane, because he could _feel_ it moving. At least a plane felt somewhat sturdy; this thing seemed like a strong gust of wind would send it spinning. The feeling was lessened when they got higher in the air, but Dean still kept his fists clenched tightly and closed his eyes, letting his head drop back against the wall with a thud.

_This fucking park had better be fucking worth it_, he thought, opening his eyes long enough to get jealous of everyone else, who seemed to be taking the flight in stride. Hell, Gabriel was probably in one of these every day. Castiel was already jotting things down in a messy script that Dean wasn't even sure he would be able to read if he saw it right side up, Crowley had pulled out a laptop, Sam was trying to get Gabriel to talk about the park more, and Jo was eagerly looking out the window, probably trying to memorize every detail so she could tell her mother every detail tonight.

Jo and her mother were incredibly close, as Dean had found out. Jo's father had died when she was young, and her mother became a widow and single mother trying to run a popular bar and grill all on her own. Despite that, she'd always been an amazing mother to Jo, making time for her and making sure she stayed on the right path, even when she was at her worst from the anger of having lost a parent so early.

Knowing that, it was easier to understand why Jo walked away from the dig at the same time each evening to call her mother and fill her in on everything. It made Dean miss his own mother, who'd passed while he was getting his PhD and Sam was just in his first years at college. It had been several years, but the loss still stung, and he didn't think his dad would ever be over it even though he'd known it was coming.

That was the only good thing about the way she'd gone; cancer at least gives you time to say your goodbyes.

Once Gabriel's phone rang, there wasn't much conversation other than the obnoxiously loud one-sided one coming from the CEO. He was evidently talking to someone about merchandising for the park, and how he wanted the logo changed. More red, he insisted. Dean eventually managed to tune him out and close his eyes again, just waiting for it to be over.

True to her word, it was just under 2 hours when Meg turned her head and announced that they were getting ready to land. Dean opened his eyes and looked out the window reluctantly; on one side the ocean stretched out for endless miles, the sun making the blue color of the water seem even more vibrant; they were low enough that he thought he saw something moving under the waves, a dark shape, like a dolphin. Maybe a shark. On the other side the island took up most of the view, though this side of the island seemed to be mostly made up of jagged cliffs and crashing waves. The helicopter dipped down, though, heading right for those cliffs.

"Might want to buckle up; the landing can get a bit rough," Gabriel said, and it was obvious he said it just to torture Dean, the way he stared at him and waggled his eyebrows. Dean tried to be as casual as everyone else as he reached for the seatbelt, but he fumbled it so many times that Jo eventually rolled her eyes and reached over, snapping the buckle in place and pulling the strap tight. Dean didn't bother to thank her; he totally could have done it on his own.

The helicopter lurched suddenly, and then the cliffs rose on each side as it dropped down into a ravine. Dean's stomach lurched right along with the helicopter, and he concentrated on breathing, counting the breaths in his head as the helicopter dropped toward the ground. Luckily, it was only a few seconds more of the wind battering the helicopter before it set down lightly on the ground.

Dean let out a sigh of relief; he'd cheated death twice in one day. Good enough for him, now he wanted off this thing.

The air was just as hot and humid here as it was on the mainland, though here it had the heavy scent of salt added to it; the helipad was quite literally between two cliffs, open to the ocean on one side and a dramatic waterfall on the other. He heard a distant noise that sounded like the horn on a boat, so they must have been fairly close to some kind of dock. He hadn't seen one on the way in, but it could have been hidden in the cliffs like the helipad.

"Okay, I'm starting to like this place," Jo said as she hopped out of the helicopter, craning her neck to see the top of the waterfall as the helicopter's rotors began to slow. Castiel was studying the area too, but with a definite frown on his face, as if he'd already made the decision to hate it.

Maybe he knew more about the park than they did, being Gabriel's brother and all.

Two navy blue open-top jeeps were waiting on the road beside the helipad, the keys sitting in them, which made sense when he thought about it for more than two seconds; why would you steal a car on an island? You wouldn't get very far.

"Pile in, everyone! Time for your introduction to the park," Gabriel said, hopping in the driver's seat of one jeep, while Meg climbed in to drive the second one. Crowley was talking to Castiel about the possibility of writing a book about the park after the tour, leading him over to the first Jeep, so Sam, Jo, and Dean hopped into the second one with Meg, Jo getting in the front seat next to Meg.

Poor Cas. He looked about as thrilled to be talking to the lawyer as Dean had been about the plane ride.

As the jeep pulled away, Dean did a double take at Sam, who instead of curious or excited was instead frowning deeply. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, nudging Sam with his elbow, and Sam shook his head.

"Nothing, just…I could've sworn that tree back there was some kind of Gingko tree."

"Yeah, and? China has a shit ton, they probably brought it here for scenery."

"But, Dean, that…that wasn't a normal Gingko tree."

Dean snorted. "Now you're going on about mutant trees? Cause I don't know if it was in your paleontology books, but there's only been one kind of Gingko since the Cretaceous period."

Sam laughed weakly, running his hand through his hair. "Yeah, you're right. I just didn't get a good look at it," he said, though he didn't seem convinced of his own words.

Leave it to Sam to be freaking out over a tree.

They turned the corner and Dean's eyes widened; in front of them were massive steel gates attached to what was obviously an electric fence, stretching into the trees in both directions. And this fence was serious business- not only was it about 25 feet tall, but there were signs in Spanish and English reading "10,000 volts". As if the massive voltage wasn't enough to scare people away from the fence- seriously, that was probably enough of a shock to kill an elephant- each sign also had a skull and crossbones on it.

"Jesus. Who are they trying to keep out?" he said with a nervous laugh as two workers slid giant locks out of place and opened the huge gates so the jeeps could pass through.

"Not trying to keep anyone _out_, dino-boy," Meg said from the front, her smirk evident even in her tone, and Dean and Sam shared a look. Was this some kind of weird Survivor-type deal? Like, full on Lord of the Flies? That would be just Dean's luck, really.

They weaved through thick trees and ferns on a dirt path, and with every turn, Sam was looking harder at the trees and plants they passed. Evidently his curiosity got the better of him, because eventually he reached out and snagged a giant leaf from one of the trees as they passed by, and now that it was up close, Dean could see just how big it actually was. Bigger than a normal sheet of paper, that was for sure, and he didn't know if that was normal for Costa Rica or not.

"Dean, this is impossible," Sam said, fingers tracing the branching veins in the leaf's surface before turning it over. "This is definitely Gingko, but it…it looks like it's an _apodes_, like the one we found on the Stego dig…"

Dean snorted, blinking in the sunlight as they pulled out of the thick trees and into a mostly open field. "Like I said. Extinct."

"I'm not wrong about this! I've studied these things for years, Dean, I wouldn't mistake this for something else, I know it," Sam was saying, but Dean had stopped paying attention around 'years', because that was when the ground trembled underneath them. Literally trembled.

"Was that an earthquake…?" Jo asked, just before it happened again, this time with a heavy thud accompanying it, like a body hitting the grass. Both Jo and Dean looked toward the sound, back and to the left, and about that time a tree came striding out of the foliage.

No, not a tree.

A _leg_.

"How did they get an extinct form of gingko? Where did they even find this? Where- _what_, Dean?" Sam said as Dean grabbed at his brother's head blindly, unable to tear his eyes away as the creature took another step, and Sam had obviously finally looked up because he wasn't talking anymore.

No one was talking. They were all staring at the Brachiosaur calmly strolling past the jeep, every step making the ground tremble again. Meg leaned forward on the wheel, relaxing like she saw this every day, and meanwhile Dean was hopping out of the jeep without even bothering to open the door. He took a few shaky steps toward the dinosaur, met by Gabriel, who was looking rather smug and proud, his hands on his hips.

"You…you have a dinosaur. That's a _dinosaur_," Dean finally gasped out, vaguely aware that Castiel had left his jeep too, and looked as shocked as the rest of them, though Crowley was just lounging in the jeep, unconcerned with the massive _extinct_ animal on his left. "Is that _real_?!"

"Oh, she's real, Dean-o. This is the first Brachiosaur we cloned. I named her Missy. She looks like a Missy, don't you think?" Gabriel said, but Dean was beyond being able to reply. Sam and Jo were beside him now, stunned into silence as the Brachiosaur abruptly reared up, using its tail to prop itself up as it tore branches from the top of the trees. And when she dropped her front legs back to the grass, it shook the ground enough to nearly knock him off balance.

It was beautiful, and definitely warm blooded, brown mottled skin over a body with legs as thick as massive tree trunks. "That's a…28 foot neck?" he asked weakly, and Gabriel shook his head.

"30 foot."

"Gabriel, what did you _do_?" Castiel asked, though like everyone else, he seemed unable to look away from the dinosaur that was contentedly munching leaves some 40 feet above their heads.

"I did what every kid always wants to do when they grow up. I brought dinosaurs back," Gabriel said proudly.

Sam was slack jawed as he took a couple steps closer. "How fast are they?"

"Well, with the right motivation, the TRex clocked in at 30 miles per hour."

Dean finally tore his eyes away from the dinosaur- the fucking _dinosaur_, what the hell- to stare at Gabriel in shock. "…did you say TRex?"

Gabriel grinned mischievously. "Come on, what's a dinosaur park without a TRex? Of course we have a TRex. Her name is Betty."

Dean suddenly felt dizzy. He felt Sam's hand on his back, pushing him toward the ground, and he went with it and plopped down heavily in the grass. The Brachiosaur was moving forward again, the trembling of the ground shaking Dean right down to the bone as he fought off the dizziness and shock, looking up again when he heard Castiel's deep voice mutter an "Oh my God…"

With the Brachiosaur out of the way, he could now see the massive lake down the hill from where the jeeps were parked, and gathered at the side of the lake was a herd of at least ten Parasaurolophus, the curved crests atop their heads giving them away immediately. He heard that sound again, the boat horn, but it wasn't a boat horn, it was a fucking _Brachiosaur,_ the call so loud that he'd heard it all the way back at the cliffs. If he looked past the Parasaurolophus, he could see the low slung, wide, armored bodies of what were likely a couple of Ankylosaurus, wading in the shallows to drink.

Dean pinched himself hard enough to bruise, but it wasn't a dream, because the air was just as thick, the field was brightly lit, Jo and Sam were both just as shocked silent, and there were fucking _dinosaurs_ eating their goddamn lunch in front of him.

"Now see, aren't you all glad you came?" Gabriel said, his voice practically dripping pride as he slung an arm around a shell-shocked Castiel. "Welcome to Jurassic Park, boys and girls."


	4. Uncertainties

Somehow, Gabriel managed to get his shell shocked guests back to the Jeeps. Castiel was still in a daze as his brother threw an arm around his shoulders, steering him back in the direction of the vehicle, his showboating in full swing.

"Didn't I tell you, Cas? Didn't I?" he asked with a grin, opening the Jeep door for Castiel. "Life changing. You could never regret this trip. First people outside my company to see a living dinosaur!"

Castiel looked over his shoulder at the Brachiosaur, the massive creature now stopping at a different tree, plucking entire branches from the top of it as easily as if they were single leaves. Its mouth moved much like a cow as it chewed, aside from the occasional loud snap of a branch between its teeth, and it didn't seem concerned in the least about the humans and the cars close by its feet.

Why would it? Not only was it far too big to be worried about anything human-sized, but it had no instincts toward humans. No built in need for caution within the species. Modern animals had learned, for the most part, that humans were to be feared, despite their size. Dinosaurs had never had the chance to learn that.

"Gabriel, how…" he started, but Gabriel just pushed him toward the Jeep, and he climbed inside clumsily.

"I'll show you everything. Promise. For now, let's show you where you're staying," Gabriel said, hopping back in the driver's seat and glancing over his shoulder at the other Jeep. Castiel followed his gaze, not surprised to see the paleontologists pointing at the dinosaurs by the lake and talking; he couldn't hear them over the Jeep's motor, but he imagined he wouldn't be able to keep up anyway. These scientists, after all, probably knew more about dinosaurs than anyone else.

Till now, of course. Gabriel's team had likely learned a lot. And maybe some of it the hard way.

"So the electric fences, they're for the ones that are dangerous? Like the T-Rex?" he asked, leaning forward and bracing his arm on the shoulder of Gabriel's seat. Gabriel nodded, steering back onto a dirt road and into heavier brush.

"Like I told you, Cas, top of the line security. We developed our own computer systems for it from the ground up," he explained, though somehow, Castiel didn't feel much better. "Electric fences, double gated computer activated steel entry points to every road that runs by the paddocks, camera systems that track the GPS trackers we implanted in every born dinosaur, hell, we even have a bunker full of safari game weapons and tranquilizers. You're safer here than in your house back home."

Castiel snorted. "Not sure I'd go that far," he said, and while Gabriel's system did sound impressive, it still ate away at him, a gnawing doubt that he'd flown right into a giant steel trap. He wanted to be optimistic, wanted to be as excited as the scientists in the car behind him, but while the beauty of the animals wasn't lost on him, their danger wasn't either. He hesitated, then finally decided to not dance around the most pressing question.

"How many casualties so far, Gabriel?"

Crowley snorted and rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, you bloody wanker. You're in the most innovative theme park in the world, dinosaurs are walking around, and you want to talk death tolls? We're going to make a fortune off this place, one way or another," the lawyer said, tapping away on what looked like a miniature spreadsheet on his phone. Probably already calculating ticket prices.

"It's okay, Crowley. I owe it to him to be honest, at least," Gabriel said, though he hadn't lost any of his confidence at the question. He'd probably expected it. "We've lost two people, Cas, and in both situations protocol weren't being followed. If they'd stuck to the guidebook, there wouldn't have been a problem. And anyway, those were employees working in unusual circumstances. It's not like we're going to let the guests get cozy with the carnivores."

Castiel still didn't feel convinced, but he didn't say so, not right now. Not when he was still reeling over what he'd just seen. He needed time to think, time to make sense of all this.

The Jeep rounded a corner and pulled up to a row of low-lying huts, each looking for all the world like a cheesy tourist-trap version of an old thatched roof cottage. Castiel got out as the other Jeep pulled up behind, and he watched the three scientists hop out of their vehicle, his eyes settling on the one with golden-brown hair and startlingly green eyes.

He'd always kicked himself for being a bit unrealistic by having such attractive protagonists working in scientific jobs in his novels, but perhaps now he could claim some basis in truth, because Dean didn't look like someone who spent all day in dig sites and museums. Sure, there were the rugged clothes and the plaid, which somehow suited him, and dirt still under his fingernails, but it all somehow fit together into a highly attractive package.

And when Dean looked up and met his gaze and smiled, it was all he could do not to break out the notebook and start waxing poetic about a ruggedly handsome paleontologist to star in his next novel.

"Alright, kids, come get your keys," Gabriel said, breaking Castiel out of his thoughts.

"These are our rooms?" Sam asked, both eyebrows raised as Gabriel handed him a card key.

"These are the crème de la crème. These are the top dollar rooms, called our luxury cottages. One bedrooms here, two bedrooms down the road a little ways, and some doubles mixed in," Gabriel explained, handing out the rest of the card keys. They were plain white, probably a placeholder until they made fancier keys. "Buy one of these for a night, and you get a private Q and A with a certified Jurassic Park scientist! 'Course, you guys are getting the full Monty. You get to see the labs up close."

"The full what…?" Castiel said with a frown, and Gabriel laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, bro. Look, the visitor's center is that huge building at the end of the road. I'll give you an hour to get settled and wash up, and we'll meet on the steps out front of it, cool?"

The group split up, with Gabriel, Meg, and Crowley driving on down the road, leaving Castiel and the three scientists standing by the huts. It seemed, for a moment, that no one really wanted to walk away, the craziness of the situation hanging in the air between them, but no one willing to break the silence for a long few seconds.

"Wow, your…your brother is somethin' else, Cas," Dean finally said with a soft laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners with his smile. "I would ask if you knew what he was up to, but I saw your face when that Brachiosaur showed up, so…"

Castiel shook his head and let out a deep, slow breath. "No. I had no idea," he admitted, thinking back over the past few years. Gabriel had mentioned something on the Africa trip, some kind of project he was working on with a PhD student in genetics and microbiology, but he hadn't thought anything of it then. Gabriel was constantly working on new projects; every year it seemed he came up with a new grand plan for a blockbuster theme park.

Castiel should have known something was different this time when there were no grand openings for three years straight. Then again, he'd spent those three years trying to forget Gabriel existed.

"I'm going to take a shower. Five minutes out here and all my clothes feel sticky," Jo complained, giving a mock salute to the boys as she walked to the door of her hut. It didn't take long for Sam and Dean to follow suit, and Castiel turned and made his way toward the hut that had the number five carved in the door. The card reader was a brown, flat panel set into the door, and he fumbled a few times before figuring out which way to hold the card in front of it until he heard the beep of the door unlocking.

He sighed with relief when the cool air inside hit him, and he closed the door quickly, shivering as the sweat rapidly cooled on his skin. His suitcase already sat at the foot of the king sized bed, and to the left of the door was a couch and chair both facing a massive flat-screen TV. He strolled across the light wooden floors and past the bed, where a counter and wall squared in a full kitchen. At first he wondered how in the world they expected the guests to cook for themselves on an island with no stores, but then he saw the sign hung above the sink.

_Don't want to eat with the masses? Contact Guest Services on your phone to schedule complimentary in-room meals cooked in your kitchen by one of our Five Star Chefs!_

_(Please call at least two hours in advance, and have any food requests ready. Otherwise our chef will cook the menu of the day.)_

The more he looked, the more he saw how much went into this; there were tour options listed in a leather bound book on the desk, the TV listing showed that eventually guests would be able to tap into webcams in various exhibits along with normal TV, and nothing in the room felt cheap. The floor was genuine hardwood, the sheets on the bed felt like silk, all the furniture looked meticulously hand carved, and that was before he even got to the bathroom. Massive whirlpool tub with lights and private TV aside, the toilet had more buttons on it than the remote control- though the picture on each button made less sense than a hieroglyphic to him.

For the moment the toilet felt more dangerous than the dinosaurs.

Castiel was well-off, but he had the feeling this kind of accommodation would be out of even his price range. But of course Gabriel was going to show them the best of everything, including the best of the guest rooms, if he wanted them to sign off on the park.

It hit him, suddenly, the weight of what Gabriel had said at his house; he'd said the investors were worried and wanted outside opinions. The investors weren't worried because they were afraid the park wouldn't do well- they were worried about the park safety. That's what all of this was about, had to be.

Nothing to be done about it now, though. Dinosaurs or not, he was here, and the helicopter wasn't picking them up till Monday morning. Gabriel had unwavering confidence in the systems, and if he was right about the two deaths being employees not following protocol, maybe he was right. Maybe.

Probably not.

Castiel sighed and washed his face and hands before dropping back on the bed- memory foam mattress, of course- and closing his eyes. He still had some time before he had to meet the others, and the moment of quiet was blissful after spending so many hours with Gabriel, who had to fill every moment of silence with _something_. It wasn't completely quiet, though; in the distance he could hear the foghorn like call of the Brachiosaur, and another call in return, more distant and eerie.

It reminded him of laying under a mosquito net in the tent in Africa, and hearing the yowls and soft roars of the lions carrying on the wind. The guide had said the roars could be heard up to five miles away, that it was like a phone call to other lions in the area- letting their pride know where they were, and letting outsiders know to stay away. The roars sometimes seemed to go on and on, and then there would be hours when they wouldn't make a sound.

He found himself wondering if any of the dinosaurs here would have the same nighttime chatter. And if a lion's roar up close was enough to make him cringe- what would a T-Rex be like?

One thing was for sure; the rifle their safari guide had carried would be useless. He'd freely admitted that up against a rhino or angry elephant, the rifle would just be a noisemaking tool to hopefully spook them into backing off. He couldn't imagine what kind of firepower they carried here, if they expected to be able to slow down an eight ton dinosaur.

He turned his head and opened one eye to look at the clock; he still had fifteen minutes, but sitting alone with his thoughts was proving to be a bad idea. He had resolved to give Gabriel a chance on this, and psyching himself up for the worst wasn't going to help. He stood and stretched, then braced himself for the island heat and made his way slowly to the visitor's center.

Dean had the same idea, it seemed. He was sitting on the top step, folding and unfolding his sunglasses in his hands, and he gave a small wave and smile when he saw Castiel. Castiel made his way up the concrete steps and joined the scientist, sitting beside him on the steps and looking out at all the huts and buildings meant for guests to stay in.

"Plague Strain was my favorite," Dean said after a few moments of companionable silence, and Castiel looked over at him. The paleontologist shrugged and hooked his sunglasses in his front breast pocket. "Had me washing my hands fifty times a day for weeks, though."

Castiel chuckled, that strange mix of pride and embarrassment settling in that he always felt when someone praised him. His publicist always said he needed to learn how to take a compliment without talking himself down. "Thank you. Though I have to admit, I liked the ending better before they suggested that I change it."

"What was it before?"

"Everyone died."

Dean laughed, tilting his head back as he did. "Yeah, I can see why they might not have liked that."

Castiel smiled, just a little. "Extinction events aren't very popular with my publisher, no. Aside from the obvious one that already happened," he said with a halfhearted shrug before giving Dean a curious look. "So, you a meteor theory type, or volcano theory type?"

"Hybrid theory," Dean said, the quick answer of someone who'd been asked the question many times before, and Castiel paused, sensing an explanation was coming. "Gradual climate change and a few major volcanic eruptions kicked off the party, the meteor just crashed it. The coup de grace, I guess."

"Makes sense."

"Be glad you got the cliff notes version. Sam could go on for days about fractured crystals and impact ejecta. He sometimes forgets not all of us read dissertations for fun."

"He's your…brother, right?" Castiel asked, vaguely remembering them both being introduced as Winchester. Dean nodded.

"Yeah, younger. Wouldn't know it from his altitude."

They fell silent as another low, almost sorrowful call stretched over the trees, and the call in return seemed to match it, as if the two dinosaurs were having a conversation across miles of trees and fields. It was like a melancholy song of sorts, worlds different from the confident bursts of sound from the lions. The lions' sounds had been efficient tools of communication, logical and bold; the sounds from the Brachiosaurs were more like entire dramas being held 30 feet above everything else, layers of depth to them that sent a shiver through Castiel.

"What do you think about…all this?" Dean asked, his voice low as he made a vague gesture in the direction of the sounds. "Think this can work?"

Castiel sighed and slid his fingers through his hair, Gabriel's confidence pitting itself against the dread that seemed to cling to Castiel's every thought here. "I don't know," he admitted, leaning forward and setting his elbows on his knees. "Gabriel can be…overconfident, at times. I suppose I'm waiting until I see more of these systems he has set up," he added, tilting his head to look at Dean. He felt like a high school kid with a crush all over again, his stomach unsteady and his mind trying to convince him that every word out of his mouth was stupider than the last. "What about you? Aren't you afraid this makes your job…obsolete?"

"Don't you mean extinct?" Dean asked, his smile widening for a moment before he looked back out at the trees and shook his head. "Nah, I…I don't think so. I mean, there's plenty of stuff other than dinosaurs that we find when we're digging. Sam is a paleobotanist, kid goes crazy over prehistoric plants. Don't ask me, I don't get it either."

"There is a ten foot tall rainforest flower that smells like rotting flesh when it blooms," Castiel pointed out; while he certainly wasn't a botany aficionado, he still appreciated the utterly strange. But Dean grimaced, giving Castiel a look.

"Yeah, you're not really selling it, there," he said, and then his expression turned curious. "You don't know what The Full Monty is, but you know all about flowers that smell like dead things?"

Castiel felt himself blush a little, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I don't really keep up on pop culture. It's distracting," he explained. He was probably going to make Dean think he was a complete freak. That seemed to be the pattern, once people got past talking about his books. A few minutes into normal conversation and it seemed they were starting to wonder how many times he was dropped on his head as a baby.

"So, what, no TV? Internet?" Dean asked, leaning toward Castiel a bit.

"Haven't owned a TV for years. I have the internet, but only because if I don't answer my agent's emails promptly, she calls my phone nonstop. She's a somewhat scary woman."

"Sounds like my boss at the museum. I mean, my bosses boss, technically. The curator," Dean said, swatting at a mosquito. "She's one of those people who would skewer her own grandma to raise attendance."

Castiel would have laughed, but someone called Dean's name, and they both turned to see Sam and Jo heading up the steps. Jo had switched into shorts and a flannel shirt knotted in the front to expose a lean midriff, and Castiel couldn't say he blamed her, given the heat.

"Sam thinks they used preserved blood from mosquitos trapped in amber. That theory was debunked _years_ ago, I told him," Jo said, and Sam rolled his eyes.

"As if you'd come up with any better ideas."

Jo crossed her arms defiantly. "Frozen flesh is a lot easier to extract genetic material from than mosquito blood!"

"When was the last time you dug up a T-Rex in the arctic?"

"The arctic now wasn't the arctic back then!"

Dean managed to stop laughing at them, just for a moment. "Guys. Hey, you two, stop it," he said though a grin, shaking his head. "He said he was going to show us the labs. We'll find out in like, an hour. Can you avoid strangling each other till then?"

"He's still wrong," Jo said with a huff, and Sam shot her an exasperated look, just as Gabriel strode up to the group.

"Alright! We ditched the lawyer and the bitch, so how about that tour?" he said, clapping his hands together and wiggling his eyebrows at them. Castiel couldn't say he was sad to see Meg and Crowley go for now, but he still snorted in disbelief and shook his head, standing up slowly. He wasn't surprised to see Dean and Sam share a look that clearly said they were just tolerating Gabriel's antics, and he couldn't blame them.

Gabriel led them into the massive lobby of the visitor's center. The roof was arched glass with a metal frame holding it up, letting in all the light from outside. A huge staircase curled up and around one side of the lobby, around the huge pedestal in the middle. On the pedestal was the centerpiece; a full skeleton of a T-Rex, standing tall with its jaws open.

It was a sudden reminder, like a slap to the face, of just how big those teeth were. Castiel wasn't sure he wanted to see one of those alive and walking around, however fascinating. He didn't have time to dwell on it, though, as Gabriel led them past the gift shop and up the stairs, swiping his card to get them into a staff hallway.

"There's still a lot of work to be done in here. Decorations kind of come last when you're trying to get dinosaurs herded around the park," he explained, leading the way past several doors till he got to a set of double doors that were propped open. Stepping inside was like stepping into NASA's control center- multiple monitors at each desk, a bay of security camera monitors, rows of servers with blinking rows of lights down an entire wall, and a scale model of the entire park taking up a large table in the middle of the room.

"Guests! Hi!" a cheerful voice said, and a redhead popped up from behind a bank of monitors, flipping the microphone on her headset up and out of the way. The woman at the other station, a brunette, rolled her eye and turned away, obviously not interested.

"Charlie, this is my brother Castiel, the guy whose home security system you hacked for me," Gabriel said with a grin as Charlie moved to stand behind him. "And these three are the Paleontologists here to ogle the dinosaurs, Dean, Sam, and Jo. Guys, this is Charlie, my head of computer systems for the park, and the grouch over there is Ruby, head of security systems."

Ruby just gave them a halfhearted wave without even turning to look, but Charlie was nearly bouncing with excitement as she shook each of their hands in turn with both of hers. Her hair was straight and pinned back at the sides, falling down just past her shoulders, and she had delicate, pretty features. It obviously wasn't a formal business environment in here, though, judging by her t-shirt with a strange red and white ball on the front, and her cargo pants that were slightly worn out in places.

"You have no idea how great it is to see some new faces. I've been on this island 340 days out of the last year looking at the same people every single day," she said, having to crane her neck to look up at Sam. "I've been running and re-running the whole tour protocol for days, you're going to love it!"

"You only have two people running your control room?" Dean asked with a frown, looking around the room- but he was right. The room was stuffed full of fancy equipment and monitors, but only two desks.

"Only need two. My two girls here are geniuses. They designed this entire system from the floor up to be able to run with minimal staff. Hell, if we all dropped dead, the park could run its own basic security and support for nine days without anyone touching a thing," Gabriel bragged, and Charlie turned one of the monitors toward them and brought up a screen full of what looked like red and green squares, each with a number in the middle.

"This is the skeleton of the whole thing, right here," Charlie explained, sitting on the desk beside the monitor and giving it a poke. "Even if the rest of the system overloads, this protocol is designed to feed straight off the solar powered backup generators. It keeps all the fences, locks, gates, and camera systems going. The only way this system could shut down is if it was purposely turned off for some kind of maintenance, but I haven't run into maintenance yet that couldn't be done with the system live."

"Gabriel said you have GPS tracking on the dinosaurs," Castiel said, and before he could even finish the question, Charlie hopped up and went to the bank of monitors on the wall, pointing to one that looked like a mess of slender colored lines and moving dots with numbers by them.

"Every dinosaur has a tracker implanted when they're first hatched. Each tracker is assigned to a certain paddock, and if the system senses the wrong sensor in the wrong paddock, every alarm in this room is gonna go nuts," she explained as Jo stepped closer to take a better look at it. Castiel paused to look at the screen next to it, which was a radar view of the coast of Costa Rica and the islands. Off to the southwest of the island chain a storm was churning over the ocean; they were probably watching it in case it headed this direction.

"And what if one of the trackers stops working?" Sam asked, and Charlie laughed.

"Now that is one of the few things on this island that is not my job. That's why we have the dudes out there with the heavy-duty tranquilizers. They deal with bringing the dino down long enough to have Benny extract the failed tracker and implant a new one."

"Benny?"

"The veterinarian."

Dean chuckled. "Where did you pick up a dinosaur vet?" he asked, and Castiel moved over to the wall of security cameras to get a closer look. Most of the camera showed nothing but empty hallways, employees working, or trees; a few were focused on the open fields they'd driven through on their way here, but the cameras weren't made for detail. He could see the Brachiosaurs and the smaller dinosaurs moving around the lake, but the other dinosaurs seemed to prefer the most densely forested areas.

"Well, technically Benny has been working for zoos for the past fifteen years. We just asked him if he'd like to try his hand at some experimental veterinary medicine," Gabriel said, jerking his head toward the door. "Come on, I know you guys want to get to the exciting stuff. It's lab time."

Charlie pouted. "My stuff is the exciting stuff. Why does Kevin get all the cool toys and pretty people?" she asked, and Gabriel patted her on the head.

"Because Kevin is making us the dinosaurs, kiddo. Don't worry, we have these four all to ourselves all weekend, you'll see them again."

It didn't take much encouragement to get the four of them back out of the control room, and while Charlie called out a goodbye, Ruby continued to pretend they didn't exist, typing away on her keyboard silently. Castiel already didn't like her much; not only for the blatant rudeness, but also just because he had one of those bad feelings about her. He liked to believe he was a decent judge of people.

"So, what's your plan if something manages to get off the island?" Jo asked as they walked, and Gabriel scoffed.

"Please. There's only one dinosaur we have that's a strong enough swimmer to even worry about them making it to the mainland, and she's pretty damn big. We'd definitely notice her if she decided to jump bail."

"What is she?" Dean asked, and Gabriel smirked.

"That's for tomorrow's tour, Deano. Tomorrow you see all the big bads."

He stepped up to another set of double doors, but this one required another swipe of his card key to get through, and a strange smell of chemicals hit them as the doors slid open. The room beyond was white, almost unbearably bright, and the platform they stepped onto overlooked the whole laboratory. It was a labyrinth of glass rooms and large machines, and the scientists moved around like ghosts, dressed in white scrubs with white covers over their shoes, and the women with matching white hair covers.

"This is where we make baby dinosaurs," Gabriel said, taking the steps two at a time down to the lab floor. Castiel and the others followed, none asking questions yet; for his part, Castiel felt like he'd just stepped into some kind of sci-fi movie, with futuristic looking machines and scientists who only glanced up from their work for a moment, if at all. It was quiet except for the whirr and buzz of the machines and the soft swish of covered shoes moving across the floor.

One of the white figures, however, did take notice of them and came over to greet Gabriel with a hug. "Hey!" the young man said with a bright smile, holding a clipboard to his chest as he looked over the newcomers. "Gabriel, been a few days since you checked in!"

"You know lawyers," Gabriel said with an exaggerated eye roll, stepping out of the way. "Kevin, this is my brother Castiel, and our three Paleontologists, Dean, Sam, and Jo. This is Dr. Kevin Tran, the mastermind behind this whole concept."

Castiel raised an eyebrow; the kid couldn't be a day over 25, and he was running a laboratory that was breeding dinosaurs?

A buzzer suddenly went off behind Kevin and he turned, his smile widening. "Oh, you guys have _perfect_ timing. Come here, quick," he said, motioning for them to follow him around two of the massive machines to a table that looked more like a giant, shallow bowl. A bright light burned hot over it, and in the bowl was a thick layer of hay and grass- and in the grass were seven giant eggs. Dinosaur eggs.

And one of them seemed to be moving.

"I couldn't have planned this better, right?" Gabriel said, elbowing Kevin before he pushed Dean and Sam toward the nest. Dean leaned forward with his hands on the edge, watching with wide eyes as the mechanical arm attached to the edge of the table swung around to grip the wiggling egg gently.

Castiel, for a moment, couldn't even focus on the egg; he could only focus on the childlike wonder on Dean's face. It was nearly contagious. The bright light of the heat lamp seemed to bring out the freckles scattered across his skin, and Castiel resisted the urge to just start counting them.

"It's hatching? Right now?" Sam asked, taking the gloves that Kevin was handing each of them. Castiel just shook his head; baby or not, he didn't plan on turning a dinosaur park into a petting zoo. He'd leave this to the scientists.

"Right now. You can help it, if you want. Takes them forever on their own sometimes," Gabriel said, and Dean focused back on the egg, where a slender crack had finally begun to form. He reached forward with surprisingly steady hands just as the crack widened and the creature pushed up, tiny nostrils barely visible through the crack in the egg.

"Oh my god," Jo whispered as Dean carefully pried up a piece of the egg, and the dinosaur's tiny head poked out the top. It made a soft, grating screech of a noise, almost like a strange bird, one small clawed hand clutching clumsily at the egg. Dean worked gently, probably holding his breath, prying away each piece of egg that the baby broke free. The dinosaur was coated in some kind of pink slime, the substance bubbling at its nostrils as it took short, labored breaths; it must have been hard work for the newborn to break out of its own egg.

"This is amazing. I can't…Dean, are you _seeing_ this?" Sam asked breathlessly, and Kevin chuckled behind him.

"We didn't lose any of the seven in this batch yet. I'm really happy," he said, already marking things on his clipboard as he watched the baby dinosaur claw its way out of the egg.

"But how?" Castiel blurted out, curiosity getting the better of his patience. "Where did you find the genetic material for cloning?"

"It's all about where they died," Kevin explained, his enthusiasm for the subject obvious as he leaned back against the nearby counter. "Dinosaurs that died in the peat bogs were always better preserved than fossils found in normal sediments. And ancient peat bogs became what are, today, coal veins."

"Those veins can be incredibly hard to access," Dean pointed out, the first time he'd spoken since he started helping the baby out of the egg.

"Yeah. Believe me, it's not easy. And we can't just go carving our way through to get to the fossils, either. We work with a deep ground penetrating radar system to find the fossils, and then we use specialized drills to dig small channels to where the fossil is," Kevin said, pausing at times, probably to make sure he was explaining this in layman's speech. "If we just dig it straight out and expose it to the elements, we take the risk of destroying the most valuable material before it even gets to the lab. So instead, we use those drill channels to inject a liquid nitrogen chemical mix directly into the fossil and the ground around it. The fossil is porous, so it's the best way of preserving it. After that, we dig and isolate the specimen and ground around it, and put it to soak in a liquid nitrogen chemical bath all the way here, to the lab. Between the coal vein and the lab, there's as little exposure of the specimen as possible. We've been able to save good amounts of the preserved genetic material that way, though it's obviously degraded."

The baby was halfway out of the egg now. It screeched again, tiny claws grasping at Dean's thumb as he pulled away the final pieces of egg, revealing a short tail. Kevin handed him a white rag, and Dean carefully began wiping the slime off the infant.

"If it's degraded, then how can you possibly develop an embryo from it?" Jo asked with a frown. "Cloning is still a delicate science as it is. I mean, with living animals, let alone extinct ones."

"The base DNA isn't actually that different from some modern animals. We've had great success using some frog and amphibian DNA to bridge the gaps and damaged parts. Even crocodile," Kevin said, pointing to one of the machines, where a woman stood going through what looked like endless lines of code.

"But how do you keep track of the ones born out in the park?" Castiel asked, getting that uneasy feeling again. He wanted to be excited, wanted to be thrilled hearing the process that was bringing these creatures to life again, but something was bothering him. Something other than the obvious dangers.

"There aren't any born out in the park. They're all chicks," Gabriel said. "Another stroke of genius from my little prodigy here."

Kevin chuckled. "Not really prodigy. All of them are initially female when formed; it actually takes an extra chemical added in at the right time to make them male. We simply deny them that."

"You can work with the chromosomes like that?" Sam asked as Dean lifted the mostly cleaned off baby dinosaur into his hands, cradling it carefully. The reptilian eyes were finally beginning to focus, watching Dean with a stare that was…almost intelligent. Like the dinosaur was already taking in its surroundings and thinking.

That was silly, though. It was minutes old, harmless. For now, anyway.

Castiel paused when he saw Dean's face. The paleontologist was frowning now, staring down at the creature in his hands not with wonder anymore, but with concern. Castiel took a step closer to him, standing by his shoulder. "Dean, are you alright?"

Dean licked his lips and looked up at Kevin, brow still furrowed. "What species is this?"

Kevin glanced at a different page on his clipboard. "This clutch is…Utahraptor."

"You…bred raptors?"

Kevin paused and lifted his gaze from the clipboard. "…Yes? Is that a problem?"

Jo and Sam were already taking the baby from Dean, stealing moments with it themselves, talking softly to each other about bone structure and the skin temperature. Castiel wasn't paying attention to them right now; he was paying attention to the way Dean almost looked angry now.

"Show me," Dean demanded, turning to Gabriel.

"That's not part of todays tour, we have dinner planned-"

"_Show me_."

That time the tone in Dean's voice got everyone's attention, and Gabriel looked a little surprised, then he shrugged. "Guess it can't hurt. The raptor enclosure is the closest paddock to the visitor's center anyway," he said, and Dean flinched at that information.

Kevin took the baby raptor over to the hatchling incubator and the scientists threw out their gloves, following a less-than-happy looking Gabriel up to the door. Sam and Castiel stuck close to Dean, both of them looking concerned, while Jo walked ahead to ask Gabriel more about the fossil preservation.

"Dean, what's up with you?" Sam asked in a hiss. "This is fucking amazing! Did you see that?!"

"Yeah, I saw it. It's a raptor," Dean said, his voice tight and expression tense. "Soon to be nine feet of claws and teeth and way too much brain for its own good."

"You've heard all about their security systems."

"It's a raptor, Sammy. Still don't like it."

"What's so different about a raptor?" Castiel asked, and Dean snorted, shaking his head.

"What's different is that with raptors, we know just enough about them to know that we don't know enough," Dean said. "They're apex predators. On their own, they already have all the tools to cause major damage. They're fast, strong, and those claws aren't just for show. All the evidence points to high intelligence. But what we haven't been able to figure out yet from the fossil record is the extent of their teamwork. Hunting in packs."

"There's no evidence of it, Dean-" Sam started, but Dean shot him a glare.

"There's no evidence against it, either. And if these things hunt in packs, if they work together, then I'm not sure I even trust these fences."

"Stop being overdramatic. I'm sure they planned for the worst."

Castiel almost laughed. "Gabriel plans for exactly what he knows will happen. Nothing more, nothing less. And he doesn't like to think of what the worst might be," he pointed out as they stepped outside again. Gabriel led the way behind the visitor's center on a narrow dirt footpath, winding through trees and brush for about half a mile until they saw tall concrete walls through the trees.

"This is a temporary enclosure. We're building something bigger and better for them as we speak," Gabriel said, walking past the steel gates set into the concrete to the other side of the enclosure, where there was a set of stairs. At the top of the stairs there was a bearded man with a rather large rifle slung over his shoulder, wearing khaki clothes and a low brimmed hat. He didn't particularly look happy to see them.

"Bobby! How are you?" Gabriel said, but Bobby seemed to be having none of his shit. He grunted and nodded toward the four following Gabriel.

"Bringin' the tourists around to see the raptors? How damn thick is your head, boy?" he said, his voice gruff and low, and holding no fear of his employer. Gabriel, in turn, completely ignored the disrespect.

"That's Castiel, my brother. These three are the paleontologists here for the inspection, Sam, Dean, and Jo. This is Bobby, our most experienced game warden," he said as they reached the top of the stairs. From this vantage point they could see through the electric fences that topped the concrete walls, down into the exhibit; but right now, all Castiel could see was plants. For nine foot tall raptors, they seemed rather good at hiding and staying quiet.

"Paleontologists, huh?" Bobby said, seeming to deem that worthy of at least a little respect, and a handshake. "S'pose you know what you're gettin' into here, then."

"Didn't know there were raptors," Dean pointed out, looking down into the paddock. "How smart are they?"

"Dolphin smart, at least," Bobby answered without hesitation, one hand never leaving the strap of his gun. "Problem solving intelligence. This is the third paddock we've had 'em in. First one they kept attacking the fences."

Jo frowned. "But the fences are electric."

Bobby nodded. "Yep. They never attacked the same place twice. They were testin' every inch of that fence, lookin' for a weakness. And if someone walked too close they walked away with one limb less, pretty often."

Castiel turned an accusing stare on Gabriel. Gabriel had insisted only two deaths; and maybe it was his own fault for not being more specific, but he figured it would be a given that he would want to know the rate of limb-loss-by-dinosaur as well. Gabriel just shrugged.

"And that's why we moved them to a new pen. For safety," the CEO insisted. "They're smart, but we're smarter."

"So they hunt as a pack, then," Dean said to Bobby, ignoring Gabriel's desperate words to calm them. Bobby nodded.

"As a pack, with a matriarch. The big girl," he said, staring down into the trees. "Used to have nine raptors. Big one came along, killed all but two of the others and took control. Don't take 'em long to grow; lethal by eight months, full grown by two years. With the growth hormones our lab rats feed 'em, they hit full height by a year old."

There was a click, and then the sound of a motor, and a crane slowly lifted over the fence at one end of the paddock- and hanging in the tarp on the end of the crane was a cow. A living, full sized black and white cow.

Bobby had pulled his gun free from his shoulder and now held it in both hands, chambering a round with a determined look on his face. "Feedin' time."

Sam eyed the gun uneasily, but he and Castiel moved to the wall with Jo and Dean, leaning to look down into the exhibit. The crane began to lower the oblivious cow, its ears and tail twitching as it lowered to the ground, only half hidden by the trees.

The motor stopped, and Castiel held his breath until he finally heard movement below. It was almost too fast to follow; one raptor burst from the bushes, kicking up a foot and slicing the massive killing claw on his foot down the front of the cow's chest. It split flesh and muscle as easily as butter, and the cow lurched forward just as another raptor darted to its side and kicked violently.

The cows steaming guts spilled free to the dirt along with shreds of the bright blue tarp, and Castiel fought the urge to gag as that seemed to kick off the feeding frenzy. Three more raptors darted in, burying their snouts in the gaping holes in the cow's hide, clawed feet slipping in the spilled guts as they tore into the still struggling animal.

It took nearly a minute longer for the cow to finally stop moving. It only took about two more for there to be nothing left but a skeleton and ragged chunks of flesh. The raptors were ravenous, leaving nothing in their wake that was edible, and the sound of teeth grinding against bone sending chills down Castiel's spine.

He shouldn't have watched, but he couldn't look away. The way the raptors moved around each other and systematically tore the animal apart was like a macabre dance, aside from the occasional snarl when one raptor encroached on another one's bite of food.

He felt ill, and he wasn't surprised when Jo stumbled away and braced one hand on her knee, the other covering her mouth. He caught Dean's eye, and somehow without saying a word, they managed to understand exactly what the other thought: these creatures shouldn't have been brought back.

Gabriel clapped his hands together and laughed nervously. "So, uh…who's hungry?"


	5. Arguments

Dean couldn't tell what was food and what was supposed to be decoration.

He wasn't the only one; he could see Jo and Sam share a glance beside him as the white-coated servers set their food down in front of them, each looking at their plate with what seemed to be an equal mix of curiosity and apprehension. Of course, Jo also looked a little disgusted, but that was probably from the raptor feeding they'd just walked away from, and he couldn't blame her. It was hard to put that out of his mind when it had happened less than an hour ago.

If he was being honest, he might admit it would be hard to put out of his mind for the rest of his life.

Castiel and Crowley seemed right at home with their place settings, though Castiel wasn't doing much more than nudging the food around on his plate, probably feeling about the same as Jo. Meanwhile, Gabriel moved from each of the three screens to the next, punching the buttons on the remote in his hand to switch the slides on each screen.

"We're still working on the Pteranodons. They're a tough one, you know," he was saying, pulling up a picture of what looked like a massive bird cage covering part of the island. "But as soon as the scientists say the word, we have a company waiting in the wings- no pun intended- to come in and create a custom exhibit for those lizard birds to fly to their heart's content. There'll be protected paths for families to walk through the aviary."

Another picture, this time concept art showing one of those paths, curved metal bars arching over the people's heads as a Pteranodon flew above.

Dean should have felt excitement, but instead he just felt a little ill.

Stupid raptors.

Gabriel pressed the button again, this time showing art of a raft going down the river that split the island, dinosaurs lazily drinking at the banks as the boat passed. "And of course, eventually the boat tour will open up-"

He was cut off by the sound of Castiel choking violently on whatever it was he'd been trying to eat at that moment. Gabriel, instead of looking worried, actually seemed more annoyed that he'd been interrupted.

"Oh, relax, Cassie. I promised I wouldn't shove you in a boat, and I'm not going to. The river ride won't be ready for another two years," he said, already changing the screen to show a Jeep driving a family through the same field where they had first seen the Brachiosaur.

Castiel gave him a rather pointed glare, and Dean looked between the two, wondering what he'd missed- there was obviously a story there, but neither of them seemed to be interested in elaborating, and Crowley was already ignoring them to move on to the next subject.

"And the best part is, we could charge separately for each attraction," Crowley said with a smirk, probably already counting up the dollars in his head. "Two hundred for the bird dinosaurs, two hundred for seeing the baby dinosaurs, two hundred for the safari, and people will pay every last dime to drag their little brats to see the dinosaurs. And then we have the _merchandise_."

Castiel's fork clattered to the plate, loud enough to make everyone at the table jump- and then, the writer chuckled darkly, one hand pressed to his forehead.

"The lack of humility before nature being displayed here…astounds me," he finally said, and Crowley rolled his eyes.

"Oh for Christ's sake, we'll already have to put up with those bloody wankers at PETA, and you're throwing a fit-" he started, but Gabriel held up a hand, dropping into the seat at the head of the table.

"No, no. Come on, Crowley, we brought them here for their opinions. Let Cas have his say," he said, looking amused as he swiveled back and forth on the spinning chair like a preschooler. Dean wanted to roll his eyes but he refrained, watching Castiel instead as the dark haired man seemed to gather his thoughts.

"Do you honestly not see the risk in what you've done here?" he finally asked, but evidently he already knew the answer, because he continued on without a break. "You have an amazing genetic power at your fingertips, and you're wielding it like a child who found his dad's gun."

Gabriel snorted. "Give me a little bit more credit, bro. What, you honestly think that, knowing what we could do, we should have let the opportunity pass by because of some pointy teeth?"

"You were so damn preoccupied with whether or not you could, you didn't stop to think if you _should_!" Castiel snapped, shaking his head. "You have animals out there that have no equal on this planet right now. Animals that have no fear of humans, and no natural predators."

"And they're on an _island_, if you hadn't noticed."

"They don't need to leave the island if you're bringing the buffet _here_, Gabriel."

"Wait, wait," Sam said, holding his hands up, his brow furrowed in that way it always was when he was thinking way too hard about something. "Look, this is…what you've got here is amazing. It's groundbreaking."

Gabriel sighed. "I sense a 'but' coming."

Sam laughed, barely. "You have plants in this building that have been extinct for 65 million years. We have no way of knowing what kind of defense mechanisms any of these plants had back then," he said, gesturing to the flowering fern in the corner of the room. "You picked them because they look good, but there are plants that excrete poison on the surface of their leaves. Plants that release different mixtures of gasses in the air in the process of growing. And we can't know that until something goes wrong."

Gabriel groaned and rolled his eyes. "Come on, I picked you guys because you, of all people, can appreciate what we've done here! Are you telling me the only person on my side is the fuckin' lawyer?" he complained, earning an exasperated look from Crowley. Jo shrugged.

"I think it's…amazing. I can't say I wouldn't have done the same myself," she pointed out, her food still barely touched. "But making it into a theme park, it's…it's just not safe. Humans are unpredictable on their own, and when you add in animals that we know nearly nothing about…"

Gabriel didn't seem affected by the criticism anymore. He smirked and stabbed his fork into the fish on his plate, stuffing a chunk of it in his mouth and not bothering to finish chewing before he started talking again. "Just wait until you take the tour," he insisted, swallowing and grabbing his glass of wine, doing a mock toast. "Guaranteed, when you finish that tour tomorrow, you'll be groveling your apologies at my feet for ever doubting me."

Dean could tell Castiel was fighting the urge to laugh, but not because he found it funny. He was frowning deeply, shaking his head, his worries not having made a dent in his brother's bravado.

Dean didn't think anything would discourage Gabriel at this point.

* * *

It had long since fallen dark, and Dean was never going to get any sleep.

He had explored everything in the room, read every brochure, enjoyed the Jacuzzi tub for far too long, and he was still shifting restlessly under the thin blankets. He wasn't sure which was more effective in destroying his ability to sleep; the debate at dinner, the memory of the raptors' screeches as they fed, or the knowledge that in a few hours he'd be seeing more living dinosaurs.

Either way, sleep wasn't happening right now. He groaned in frustration and shoved the blankets down, grabbing at the t-shirt he'd left slung over the top of his duffle bag. He shoved his feet into his boots without bothering to lace them up, grabbed his key, and headed outside.

The day had been nearly unbearable, between the heavy blanket of humidity and the temperature that was about ten degrees too high for sentient life. But the night was actually comfortable and warm, if a little humid, and perfect for the walk he needed to try and get his mind to slow down. It took him a few moments to place what was bothering him, though; there was nearly no noise from birds or bugs, like they put up with on some dig sites.

Maybe the native wildlife saw what was going on and fled en masse. He couldn't really blame them; if he were the size of a bird, he'd run like hell from a raptor, too.

…Come to think of it, compared to the T-Rex, he would pretty much be snack sized.

He found himself looking up at the visitors center, and out of curiosity, he climbed the stairs and pressed down on the massive door handle. It actually swung open; evidently, with no tourists on the island yet, they weren't really worried about things getting stolen. He stepped inside the rotunda, his breath catching when he saw the T-Rex skeleton, backlit by dim construction lights that stood around the platform. Behind that a tarp flapped weakly in the slight wind, the back of the rotunda not yet In place, giving way to the thick foliage behind the building instead of a solid wall.

He could have spent hours studying that skeleton, figuring out how much of it was actually complete, and how much had been fabricated to fill in the gaps. He stopped himself, though; he was on vacation, and tomorrow he would be seeing the real thing.

A real fucking T-Rex. He wasn't sure if he was excited, terrified, or both.

He turned away from the skeleton and instead made his way into the gift shop, which seemed to be mostly finished. The merchandise lined the shelves neatly, dinosaur models and toys and lunchboxes and books, things he would have killed to have as a kid. The cables for the checkout computer hung loosely over the edge of the counter, the only sign that the place wasn't quite ready to have customers wandering around, picking out their expensive trinkets.

Then again, this stuff would probably be pocket change to the kind of clientele that could afford to come out here.

For a moment, Dean entertained the idea of getting a grant from the museum to take some kids out here once a year. Take the kids who showed a real love for science, have a contest or something, and take the kids who would appreciate it the most but couldn't afford it. He couldn't imagine how that would have felt when he was twelve years old, still keeping shelves of dinosaur figurines carefully arranged in alphabetical order by their scientific names, if someone told him he could go see the real thing.

He smirked and shook his head, picking up a plush stegosaurus and tugging fondly at the plates alternating vertically down its spine. Stegosaurus had always been one of his favorites.

"You too, huh?"

Dean jumped in surprise and nearly dropped the toy at the sound of a voice in the otherwise silent room, but he would recognize that voice anywhere, even if he'd only met the guy that day. He turned and gave Castiel a half-hearted glare that turned into a laugh.

"What, can you teleport or something? Scared the shit out of me," he said, dropping the plush toy back into the bin. Castiel just hummed in reply, sliding his fingertips across the cover of a coloring book on display.

"My apologies. To be fair, I didn't expect that anyone else would still be up," he said, stopping by a rack full of plastic dinosaur toys. Dean caught sight of a basket full of plastic dinosaur eggs and stepped over to them, picking one up and tossing it Cas's way.

"Here. Catch," he said, picking up another of the eggs and cracking it open at the seam in the middle. As he'd suspected, there was a tiny stuffed baby dinosaur inside; his was a Parasaurolophus. He lifted his head to watch as Castiel opened his, and a small T-Rex fell out, the plush baby already equipped with a mouth full of felt teeth.

"I would have loved this place as a kid," Dean said, and Castiel smiled, just a little.

"You still love this place. You're just a little more logical about it now."

Dean huffed and shook his head. "Wish I didn't have to be. I wish we could just sit back and watch the dinosaurs and enjoy this place," he said, snapping the egg closed again. He'd had that moment of magic, when they first saw the Brachiosaur, when nothing else seemed to matter but the magnificent animal in front of him.

The reality of the danger here hadn't hit him till he'd been holding that baby raptor in his hands.

"I suppose I'm biased," Castiel said, closing the plush T-Rex back in the egg and tossing it gently back to Dean. "I've been subjected to Gabriel's grand schemes before. It didn't go well."

They walked out of the gift shop into the rotunda, the distant bellow of a Brachiosaur carrying across the wind as they sat down on the edge of the T-Rex platform. Dean studied Castiel in the dim light; the man looked tired, stressed. More than simple worry about being here.

"What happened?"

Castiel hesitated, running his fingers through his dark hair, making it more unruly than it already was. "Let's just say that…it's better on a safari to avoid antagonizing the wildlife."

"That…doesn't sound like it ended well. Why did you agree to come here?"

Another Brachiosaur answered the first call, further away and lower in pitch. Castiel smiled weakly and gave a half shrug. "I suppose I'm a bit of a pushover when it comes to family. Believe me, when my sister hears I came here, I'll never hear the end of it."

Dean quirked an eyebrow. "How many siblings do you have? And how come he only invited you? Hell, if I pulled off something like this, I'd be inviting everyone I knew."

"I have five siblings. Other than Gabriel, I have a sister named Anna, and three brothers named Michael, Lucifer, and Samandriel."

"…Lucifer? Seriously?"

Castiel laughed, eyes crinkling up at the corners, and god, Dean would never get tired of seeing him smile. "He goes by Luc," the writer said, leaning back on his hands. "And anyway, he only invited me because evidently his investors wanted someone with some…influence on the public. Or something. That, and I don't think any of our other siblings would agree to come. They aren't as tolerant of his…fanciful endeavors."

Dean smiled and shook his head. "You know, when I read your books, I honestly thought you sat there with a thesaurus open while you wrote them. I was obviously wrong," he joked, and he could see Castiel's cheeks redden a bit, even in the low light. "Not that it's a bad thing. Just not what I expected from someone who writes sci-fi and crime thrillers, you know?" he added quickly, hoping he hadn't just shoved his foot in his mouth, as per usual.

"No, I…I get that a lot. My editor scolds me about my prose being overly formal at times," Castiel said, and Dean relaxed a little, until those blue eyes focused on him again. "Enough about me. All I know about you is that you dig up dinosaur skeletons with your plant-obsessed brother and a pretty blonde. Which, by the way, would make for a very unique set of protagonists."

"Nah, it would be boring. We sit in the dirt all day trying to carve rock out of rock," Dean joked. "I mean, there's not much to tell. We grew up in Kansas and always wanted to dig up dinosaurs, so that's what we ended up doing."

Castiel fidgeted a little, looking away from Dean and back toward the gift shop. "So, if…hypothetically, for book research, I might want to come out and visit one of your digs…?"

Dean's stomach did a flip; he felt like he was fifteen years old all over again, sitting next to his crush in the cafeteria. "Hypothetically, I think you would be incredibly bored, but also incredibly welcome," he said, and he caught Castiel's shy smile before the writer stood up.

"Well, I suppose I'll at least try to get some sleep," he said, the tarp snapping behind them with a stronger gust of wind. "It was nice talking with you, Dean."

Dean smiled brightly. "Yeah, you too, Cas. Try not to stress too much tonight."

**~~ Isla Sorna, August 16****th****, 2014 ~~**

Breakfast was infinitely better than dinner had been.

Either the chef had noticed that his five star French cuisine hadn't gone over great, or he'd just gotten lazy, but breakfast was served in the giant, empty restaurant, and it consisted of bacon, eggs, and pancakes with maple syrup. Dean was in heaven, making up for the lack of eating last night by helping himself to seconds and thirds of the bacon and eggs.

"Dean. It's not going to disappear if you eat too slow," Sam said, looking slightly embarrassed for his brother, but Dean really could not care less when there was still bacon to be eaten.

"Dude, I haven't had a real breakfast in months. Deal with it," Dean said, earning a soft smile from Castiel and an eye roll from Jo.

It had been nice to sleep in, too. Gabriel insisted that vacation meant not having to get up before ten, so breakfast was ready right at 10:30, which Dean could definitely get used to. In his line of work, they had to make the most of every moment of daylight and good weather; they were usually up with the sun, and still up a couple hours after it set.

"Are you kids ready?" Gabriel's voice said, obnoxiously loud in the huge room. He stepped up to the table and leaned on the back of an empty chair, stealing a strip of bacon off Castiel's plate. Or at least, he tried to- and he earned a loud smack across the back of his hand for the effort. Dean shoveled the last of the eggs into his mouth before he stood up, and Gabriel was still pouting at Castiel as they made their way out front.

In front of the visitors center sat two SUVs, brightly colored with the Jurassic Park logo emblazoned on the sides. Dean immediately noticed something amiss- one, no drivers were hanging around, and two, each steering wheel had a strange set of clamps on the center and arching around the edges. He frowned and opened the door to one of the cars, studying the contraption.

"What's up with this?"

"Another stroke of genius from Charlie," Gabriel explained, leaning on the side of the truck. "No drivers needed. They run off a combination of GPS and sensors underneath the roads. You just sit back, and the tour audio will load as you approach each exhibit."

Castiel didn't look impressed. "You're just putting people in cars and sending them out on a tour full of dinosaurs without any guides?"

"Well, if they really want to jump out and tangle with deadly electric fences to try and pet a dinosaur, I doubt a guide is gonna stop them either," Gabriel pointed out with a shrug. "Besides, Cas, I thought you didn't like having a guide."

There was that moment again; the glare from Castiel and the impish look from Gabriel that spoke volumes about something they weren't sharing with the class. Nonetheless, his attention was diverted when Crowley sauntered up, still in a perfectly pressed suit and sunglasses. Dean had kind of been hoping the lawyer wouldn't be along for the tour, but it seemed his luck didn't go that far.

"Hey, Dean, why don't you take the other car?" Sam suddenly said, giving Dean a push away from the open door and back toward the second SUV. Before he could argue, Sam and Jo were sharing a conspiratorial look and climbing into the back of the first SUV, and Crowley in the front. Dean had turned and made it halfway back to the other car before he realized their plot- this meant he'd be in an SUV with Castiel for the tour.

He wanted to kick them and hug them at the same time for being nosy brats.

He took a deep breath before climbing into the car, Castiel already settled into the backseat next to him, giving Dean a nervous glance and smile. "Excited?" he asked, and Dean let out a sigh.

"Yeah. I guess that's a word for it," he said, rolling down the window a little when he saw Gabriel waving to them.

"Get comfy, we'll get the cars moving in a few minutes! Dean, no deflowering my baby brother in a company car!" he yelled, and Dean felt his cheeks heat up, and he make a point of flipping Gabriel off before rolling the window back up. Luckily, he wasn't alone- when he caught a glimpse of Castiel, the writer was just as red faced as him.

"I apologize for my brother's immaturity-"

Dean laughed. "Please. Don't worry about it," he said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "If I tried to apologize for everything my brother did, my apologies could make an entire manifesto."

Castiel chuckled and looked back up at Dean. "So…dinosaurs?"

Dean's stomach did another flip flop, and he licked his lips and swallowed hard.

"Yeah. Yeah, dinosaurs."

* * *

Gabriel was nearly vibrating with nervous energy as he skidded around the corner into the control room and threw an arm around Charlie's shoulders. "Hey, red, everything ready to go?" he asked, and she didn't miss a beat in her typing, even with the brunette hanging on her like that.

"We're ready to roll. The basic program worked like a dream for all the test runs, and I'll have the system compiling a full list of any bugs we run into along the way."

"That's my girl," Gabriel said with a grin, ruffling her hair a little before turning to Ruby, who was snacking on some potato chips and staring at the camera monitor above one of her screens. "Hey Ruby, can you troubleshoot those bugs as they come in?"

Ruby gave him a look of disgust. "Well, yeah, if you want the whole system to grind to a near halt because I'm changing code while the program is running," she said with a shrug. Gabriel snorted and shook his head.

"Well aren't you just a ray of sunshine."

She gave him a mocking smile. "Just for you, darling. Pay me more and I might even throw in some coding for facial recognition."

"Maybe I wouldn't have to pay you more if you didn't spend all your days off at casinos," Gabriel pointed out, and the forced smile turned into a sneer as she turned back to her monitors.

"I'll debug the fuckin' system when the cars get back. Unless you want me overloading the system," she snapped, and Gabriel rolled his eyes, turning around when he heard Charlie beckon him over. He moved to see the monitor she was standing in front of- the tropical storm that they'd been watching the past few days.

"It doesn't look like this one's going to turn south, boss man," she said, tapping her capped pin against the monitor, which was showing a loop of the tropical storm's direction over the past 24 hours. Sure enough it was sliding steadily to the northeast, not even losing any of its distinctive shape as it barreled closer to the islands.

"How long do we have? And how bad is it?"

Charlie hummed. "We'll get the first waves of it just after sunset, according to the radar forecast. And it's no hurricane yet, but it's not messin' around, either. We'll have at least high winds and some good downpours," she explained, and then she gave him a hopeful smile. "But it _is_ moving fast. By morning it should have completely blown through."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at the storm, as if he could intimidate it off its path. "Can we fit in the tour?"

"As long as we don't run into any snags, we can probably get most of it done. But really, we shouldn't be risking more people than we have to. Not with that lawyer hanging out."

"What are you suggesting?"

Charlie beamed. "I'm suggesting a test run. I set this place up to run on absolutely minimum staff for up to nine days. Send everyone else home on the boat leaving later this afternoon. You, me, Ruby, Meg, Bobby, and our tourist pals can say and ride out the storm here in the staff rooms at the visitors center," she said, and Gabriel thought about it for a few moments.

It would show Crowley and their guests just how much faith they had in their systems if they went down to skeleton staff for the weekend. Not only that, but he'd actually look like a decent person, not making the rest of his staff sit on an island in a near hurricane. It would be a win win and proof that his systems and security were foolproof.

"Alright, do it," he said with a nod. "Sent out the word that all nonessential staff is leaving on the five o'clock boat for the mainland."

Charlie immediately pulled up the email system, typing out the alert at near unbelievable speed, and marking it as high priority before sending it off. Gabriel pulled up the tour route on the main camera monitors, zooming in on where the two tour SUVs were sitting before throwing a glance to Charlie.

"Ready to start the program?"

She gave him a thumbs up. "All systems are go, captain!"

He smirked and turned back to the console, pressing the microphone button for the vehicles. "I hope you're all ready, because you're about to see some fuckin' dinosaurs," he said, and then he pointed at Charlie, giving her the cue.

Three keystrokes, a few beeps, and the SUVs began to roll toward the massive gates arched over by the words "Jurassic Park".


	6. Moments

To the person who said they check for updates all the time: first of all, thank you, and I appreciate every single last review! Second, let me make it easier, as I noted this on AO3 but forgot to do so here: This fic updates in the evening on Tuesdays or very very early Wednesday mornings. So, if you check anytime on a Wednesday, the new chapter is sure to be up. 3 (My online class schedule runs Wednesday-Tuesday, so I usually have all my weekly homework done by Monday, which is why I do Tuesday updates before the new class week starts on Wednesdays.)

Enjoy the dinosaurs! :3

* * *

Dean and Castiel had been busying themselves with the touchscreen in the dashboard when the car suddenly began to move. Dean nearly fell back into the seat from where he'd been leaning up between the front seats, and Castiel laughed, sitting back in the seat.

"Welcome to Jurassic Park. Please sit back in your seats, and keep all windows and doors closed at all points during the tour. Thank you," a familiar voice said over the speakers in the car, and Castiel and Dean shared a look.

"Is that…?"

Gabriel's voice jumped in, and Dean could tell the man was grinning just from the tone of his voice. "Yep, little bro. The narration was all recorded by the man himself, Morgan Freeman. We spared no expense," he said, and Dean's eyes narrowed.

"You can hear us?"

"Look up, Dean. Higher. Higher, higher…there. Wave to the camera!" Gabriel said cheerfully as Dean's eyes finally locked on the partially hidden camera in the ceiling of the car, just above the windshield.

Castiel frowned, then reached over the front seat and popped the glove box open, tugging a small first aid kit out of it. Dean raised an eyebrow at him as he searched the box, coming up with a rather large Band-Aid.

"Castiel, don't you dare-" Gabriel's voice said, but he trailed off as Castiel leaned forward and covered the camera lens up with the bandage. They heard some cussing and a frustrated sigh, and Dean couldn't help but laugh, giving Castiel an appreciative look.

"Thanks. Feels less like a skeevy candid camera now," he said, and Castiel smiled.

"Last thing I need is to know he's watching me all day," he added, and Dean heard Gabriel scoff.

"I can still hear you guys!" he whined, and Dean was sorely tempted to start making some rather pornographic noises, but his attention was drawn to outside the car. They'd pulled onto a narrow path, thick foliage lining the sides of the road and brushing against the side of the car, and straight ahead there was a massive gate.

It looked like wood, but it obviously wouldn't be wood, just a convincing replica material. The gate had to be three stories tall, with the words "Jurassic Park" arching over the top in red letters. As the car in front of them approached the gates they swung open smoothly, and Dean wondered what kind of motors they had hooked up to those doors to automatically open them. They were massive, and had to weigh thousands of pounds.

"You can't say he lacks a flair for the dramatic," Castiel pointed out as they drove past the gates, and Dean swiveled in his seat to watch as they closed- and heavy steel bars slid into brackets on the back of the doors, keeping them tightly shut.

They were locked in with the dinosaurs now, just one fence between them and a whole lot of teeth and claws, their safety squarely put in the hands of Gabriel and the control room.

Maybe this was a good time to take up praying.

It was a bit of a drive to the first paddock, though it was a comfortable silence, both of them taking in the scenery. It was probably fifteen minutes through trees and grasslands before he could see the fence coming up close to the road, the foliage getting thicker on either side of the path, and he felt his heart speed up with excitement.

"The first dinosaur on our tour is the Deinonychus. These small raptors are now known to have joined up in loosely knit groups to bring down prey much larger than themselves," the narration said, and Dean looked out the window, straining to see anything in the foliage past the fence.

"So, like the travel size version of the Utahraptors?" Castiel asked softly, looking out the opposite window. Dean nodded.

"Much smaller, with more feathers."

"Feathers?"

"Yeah. The movies and books like to leave that out. Evidently the idea of giant vicious lizards having feathers doesn't add much to the intimidation factor," Dean explained, sure for a moment that he saw something dart through the ferns. He scolded himself though, sure that his imagination was just running overtime. He was on an island full of dinosaurs, after all.

"Guess they're not as interested in us as we are in them," Castiel said, leaning back in his seat. Dean sighed in disappointment as the cars pulled away from the fences, into a more open area. He'd really wanted to see them, even for a moment- but if the map on the screen was to be believed, there would be a lot more chances. He could count at least eight major paddocks, and those were just the ones big enough to show up on the island map.

"Reminds me of going to the zoo as a kid…you know. And the tiger was always behind the trees, or around the corner," he said with a chuckle, and Castiel frowned at him.

"I've never been."

"…You've never been to the zoo? Not even as a kid?"

Castiel shrugged, looking a little embarrassed now. "We were told it wasn't a productive use of our free time," he said, looking back out the window, and Dean felt a pang of regret for having upset him, even the slightest bit. "We had a schedule to keep."

Dean snorted. "Well fuck that," he said, and Castiel looked back at him, seeming amused by his spirited response. "You and me, Cas; when we get back to the mainland, I'm taking you to the zoo."

Castiel laughed in disbelief. "Aren't we a little old for that…?"

"Hey, you're never too old to go and watch them make an elephant paint a picture for you."

"They make the elephants…paint?"

"Man, you have really got to get out more," Dean said, shaking his head. "Like I said, as soon as we hit the mainland, I'm dragging you to the zoo."

Castiel smiled, just a subtle lift at the corners of his mouth, but for him it may as well have been a grin. "It's a date, then," he said, and then his cheeks reddened as he realized what he'd said. Dean may have teased him, if the Morgan Freeman didn't decide to be such a cockblock at that moment.

"The next exhibit on our route is one of Jurassic Park's finest. The Tyrannosaurus Rex is truly one of the fiercest land predators to ever live; its name even means 'tyrant lizard'," the narration said as they pulled into a wider section of road and the cars slowed to a stop. To the right was a massive section of electric fence, bright warning signs hanging on each section, and beyond the fence were more trees and ferns, though not as thick as some of the other exhibits.

To the left was some brush, and a small building marked with bathroom signs; evidently, they expected people to need those kinds of facilities at this particular exhibit.

He really couldn't argue with that.

"Think it'll show?" Castiel asked, looking out the window on Dean's side at the exhibit. Dean snorted.

"Might have better luck if they strapped raw meat to the top of the car."

"Careful. Gabriel might actually take that suggestion."

"Alright girls, stop gossiping," Gabriel's voice said over the speakers. "Hang tight, we're going to give the big girl some motivation."

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this…" Dean muttered, turning back to the exhibit and watching carefully. There was a mechanical 'whirr', and then something began to rise up from the ground in the exhibit.

A goat. A goat tied to a platform that had evidently been set up for feeding, able to be wrenched up anytime the T-Rex needed fed.

"Seriously? That thing is like…an animal cracker compared to a Rex. He's feeding a 40 pound animal to a 7 ton eating machine," Dean said with a laugh, dropping back in the seat as the goat bleated miserably. Castiel watched it for a few moments before relaxing himself.

"Well, it's not like we won't hear it coming, at 7 tons."

"Yeah, just listen for Sam's girly screams," Dean said with a snort.

"I'm totally telling him you said that," Gabriel said over the speakers, and Dean cursed.

"I'm gonna cut every wire in this damn car until you go away, Gabriel," he snapped, and there was laughter from the speakers, then silence again.

Now all they could do was wait.

It was a comfortable silence again with Castiel, neither of them feeling the need to fill the space with chatter; instead, they rolled the car windows down and enjoyed the cool breeze that was starting to pick up, probably from that storm they'd seen on the monitors. It was a welcome relief from the sticky heat. Dean looked ahead and saw that Jo, Sam, and Crowley had the windows of their car lowered too, and Jo's sandals stuck out one window, feet crossed at her slender ankles. Knowing her, she was probably using Sam's thigh as a pillow while she read a book.

The T-Rex obviously wasn't hungry. By the time the cars started moving again the goat had lain down and was casually eating some weeds. Gabriel insisted over the speakers that they'd swing by again later, that the Rex seemed to like the evening hours better anyway.

"Maybe if they brought her something bigger to eat, she'd actually show up," Dean said, leaning against the door and dropping his head against the now closed window, the glass cool against his temple. And, after a few minutes of driving, that position was what allowed him to catch sight of something sticking above the tall grass, maybe a fourth of a mile off the side of the road.

And that something looked really familiar.

Without hesitating, he opened the car door and jumped out, glad that the cars moved agonizingly slow through the park. He heard Castiel say his name in surprise, but he was already stepping into the grass, the thing he'd seen now hidden from view as he stepped down into the field.

"Hey, Dean, wait! What are you doing?" Castiel asked, catching up and walking beside him.

"I thought I saw something-"

"Dean, I thought mom got the lesson about not jumping from moving vehicles in your curriculum somewhere," Sam interrupted as he caught up, though he looked more amused than upset, Jo not far behind him. Behind them, though, Crowley looked downright pissed.

"You'd think dinosaur experts would know that it's a bit dangerous to leave their vehicle in a dinosaur park," he snapped, smoothing down his suit jacket and wrinkling his nose at the grass as they pushed through it. Dean ignored him, because he could see over the grass again, that familiar shape, right on the other side of the grass…

He stepped into the clearing, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

A Stegosaurus lay partially on her side in the shorter grass, the plates on her back sticking up just enough that Dean had spotted the tallest ones over the grass. Her breathing seemed labored, her eyes dull, and she didn't seem to notice their presence as she huffed out a breath and groaned.

"Jesus…" Castiel gasped out beside him, and then someone stood up behind the Stegosaurus, a man in khakis and a polo, with a beard and gentle blue eyes.

"Don't you worry, friends, I got her sedated. It's safe," he said, the heavy Louisiana accent clinging to every word as he stepped around to the dinosaur's belly. Dean didn't need any more encouragement; one of his favorite dinosaurs was right in front of him, alive and just like he'd always pictured it, and he found himself not caring about the risks anymore.

He stepped forward and reached out, sliding one hand down the Stegosaurus' side, the skin rough and bumpy under his hand. He grinned and pressed the other hand to her side, almost certain right now that he was dreaming, but this would be too real even for a dream; he was almost pushed backward by the sheer force of her just breathing in.

He knew Sam and Jo were already seeing her up close too, and he turned to look for Castiel, finding that the writer was watching him with a fond look and a soft smile. He motioned for Castiel to come closer, and the smile turned into a look of apprehension.

"No, I…I'm close enough here," he protested, and Dean shook his head, stepping over and grabbing Castiel by the wrist, tugging him over to the dinosaur's side.

"Someone offers you a chance to safely pet an extinct animal? You do it," he teased, putting his hand back on the Stegosaurus, memorizing the feel of her. Castiel shifted his weight nervously at first, then reached out and lightly touched her side, his touch feather light at first before he finally pressed his hand down.

"She feels kind of like an elephant," he said, and Dean smiled brightly, catching Castiel's eye again. And for one second, right then, he didn't even care about the damn dinosaur. Not when Castiel was smiling at him like that.

"What's wrong with her?" Sam asked, breaking Dean and Castiel out of their own world they'd been in. The man in khakis, who Dean could only assume was the vet, crossed his arms.

"Don't know surely yet," he said, watching as Jo knelt down next to the Stegosaurus' head. "She's lethargic, disoriented, got labored breathing…seems to happen every six weeks or so."

"Did you see these?" Jo asked, one hand on the dinosaur's muzzle, just behind the animal's beak-like snout. She pointed in its open mouth, and Dean leaned over the sprawled front legs to see- and sure enough, there were yellowish brown blisters on the dinosaurs tongue. The vet nodded.

"Yeah, those happen every time, too. We've run blood a few times, but it's not exactly like runnin' blood tests on a dog, you know? Don't even hardly know what we're lookin' for," he explained, and Sam came around to where Jo knelt. Dean knew that face; Sam was obviously deep in thought, and ready to solve a puzzle.

"Can I see your light?" he asked, and the vet handed over the penlight, watching over Sam's shoulder as he pointed it right at the animal's eye. "You said you sedated her?"

"Yeah, we did."

"These are dilated, though," Sam said, and the vet leaned in closer to get a better look.

"Well I'll be damned," he said, shaking his head. "So busy with the blood tests, missed the obvious there."

"It's got to be pharmacological," Dean said, beginning to understand what Sam was getting at. Castiel raised an eyebrow at him, watching as Sam stood and began searching the area with an expert eye.

"Pharmacological?"

"Probably local plant life," Dean explained, one hand still pressed to the Stegosaurus' side. "Either one of those extinct plants they stuck here, or maybe a modern plant the dinosaurs wouldn't know to avoid."

"Is this West Indian Lilac?" Sam asked, crouching down nest to a shrub that was flowering purple. The vet nodded, only glancing up from the dinosaur for a moment.

"Yeah, got those around here. The dinosaurs don't eat 'em, though."

Dean was already moving to where Sam was crouched down, hand touching the disturbed soil around the plant. "Are you sure…?"

"Pretty sure, brother."

Sam stood, brushing the dirt off his hands. "One way to find out," he said, turning and giving the vet a determined look. "Can we see its droppings?"

There was a groan from behind them, and Dean didn't have to turn to know it was Crowley. "Please tell me we're not going to let him dig around in shit," the lawyer said, but he got soundly ignored as the vet pointed to another part of the field, closer to the trees.

Castiel didn't look thrilled, but he followed as Sam, Dean, and the vet made their way to the patch of ground. "So I'm assuming you're the veterinarian Gabriel mentioned," he said, and the vet chuckled and nodded.

"That'd be me. Name's Benny Lafitte," he said, tugging out a pair of long plastic gloves and tossing them to Sam, who had found a rather sizeable pile of…well, shit. Dean wrinkled his nose, fully prepared to let his little brother handle this part.

"How'd you get roped into this, anyway?" he asked Benny.

"I was workin' at the San Diego zoo. Specialized in the big cats," Benny said, watching as Sam dug through the dung. Castiel looked vaguely ill as he watched on; the smell was incredibly pungent, even for poop. "Gabe came bargin' into my clinic one day, asked if I wanted to come work on a specialized game preserve. I mean, he wouldn't tell me what animals I'd be workin' with, but with the money he was offerin', I would've been an idiot to say no. And you know, I would've said yes anyway, even if I knew what all this was."

"Can't blame you," Dean said with a half smile, just as Sam stood up with a sigh.

"No berries. That doesn't make any sense, though. She has all the symptoms of Meliatoxicity," he said, snapping the gloves off and dropping them into a plastic bag Benny held out for him. "You said this happens often?"

Benny nodded. "Like I said, every four or six weeks, she'll come down with this. Within a few days she's pulled a 180, back to normal."

Dean looked back at the Stegosaurus, watching as Jo stroked its head, much like she would a sick dog to comfort it. Every four to six weeks…what did an animal do every four to six weeks that was different than normal?

It hit him while they were walking back to the dinosaur, and he came to a sudden stop. "Gastroliths," he said, and Sam, Castiel, and Benny all gave him odd looks, but he was already jogging back to the area where they'd seen the West Indian Lilac.

"Dean?" Castiel said, obviously confused, but also curious. Dean smirked and leaned down, grabbing a handful of small, smooth stones from the dirt near the plants.

"Gastroliths. We've found them in nearly every Stegosaurus dig site. They swallow small rocks to aid in digestion, and when the rocks are no longer rough, they regurgitate them and swallow new ones."

"Every six weeks," Sam added, grinning as the light bulb went on over his head. Dean held out his hand, and sitting among the smooth stones in his hand were undigested and partially digested West Indian Lilac berries.

"She's not eating the plant. She's eating the berries that fell off the plant and landed in the dirt and rocks."

Benny laughed. "Boys, you're hired. I'm keepin' you out here," he said, just as Crowley joined them, snapping his cell phone closed.

"Gabriel wants us back in the cars. He needs to get us back to the center before the storm hits. So let's move, ladies," he said, and Sam got one of those kicked-puppy looks on his face.

"If it's alright, I'd like to stay and help Benny with the Stegosaur," he said, looking at the veterinarian, who gave a smile and a shrug.

"Sure. I still need to draw some blood and do a few odds and ends. I can take you back in my truck when we finish."

"I don't care if you walk the thing back on a leash. I'd just like to not get this suit wet in a torrential downpour," Crowley snapped, turning to Castiel. "Cassie, darling, ride with me on this leg. I have some business to talk with you," he said, and Castiel didn't look happy, throwing a helpless glance at Dean before nodding reluctantly.

Dean nearly fell over when Jo threw her arm over his shoulders and gave him a bright smile. "Don't worry, Dean, I'll ride with you so you won't be lonely," she teased, rubbing her knuckles on his head before following Castiel and Crowley toward the cars.

Dean turned and gave Sam a look. "Be careful, okay? Don't stay out here if the weather gets shitty. And, uh…wash your hands before you eat anything," he said, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I'll be fine, Dean. I'm a big boy now, I can handle it," he said, following Benny back over to the Stegosaurus. Dean watched him go, then sighed and followed the other three back toward the cars, letting out an unhappy huff when he saw Castiel sliding into the front passenger seat of the front car.

Not that he didn't like Jo, but he spent 15 hours a day with Jo in the digging season. He didn't like anyone after spending that much time with them, usually.

He jumped into the driver's seat of the second car, ignoring the weird device hooked up to the wheel as Jo joined him, getting into the passenger seat. As soon as the doors closed, the cars began to move, pulling to the first turn-around point and using it to turn the other direction on the invisible track.

He was beginning to realize why they were calling the cars back; the clouds were rapidly gathering, and the ferns and tree branches were whipping in the sudden stronger winds that had begun to fire up.

"You really like him, don't you?" Jo asked, and Dean tried to fight down the slight blush, to no avail.

"He's a pretty cool guy, yeah," he said cryptically, but Jo saw right through it, pulling her hair back into a ponytail with a knowing grin.

"Pretty cool? Is that code for 'I want to ride that ass like the last ark out of the flood?" she asked, and for that she got a smack to the shoulder.

It was going to be a long ride back.

* * *

Ruby popped the last French fry into her mouth, watching as Gabriel glared at the camera feeds like they'd personally offended him. Or maybe stole his candy stash. Either one could result in that look.

"Don't feel bad, Gabe. We've still got two whole days. This storm will have all blown over by morning," Charlie said, far too cheerfully for Ruby's taste. She rolled her eyes and turned back to her monitor, checking the lines of code she'd prepared for what had to be the hundredth time.

She couldn't be too careful. After all, there could be no test run of her programming here; she had to get this right the first time, or she'd be absolutely screwed.

"But what if the next time we send them out, it's like this again? Two no shows and a sick dinosaur, Charlie. It'll be a disaster," Gabriel moaned miserably, and Charlie patted his shoulder and dropped a Tootsie Roll into his hand.

"Here. Eat some candy, you'll feel better," she said. "This is the very first tour. We can't expect it to be perfect. If you're really worried, we can skip the Rex's morning feeding tomorrow, so when we bait her on the tour she'll be hungry enough to jump for it."

That idea seemed to ease Gabriel's anxiety a little. He relaxed as he chewed the candy, and then he nodded.

"Right. Yeah, let's plan on that. I don't want them leaving without seeing the two biggest main attractions," he said, just before Ruby's phone started ringing, the obnoxious jingle immediately fraying her nerves; she'd been meaning to change that ringtone for forever.

She put the phone to her ear with a sigh. "Ruby Cortese," she said, the words short and clipped.

"Hello, Ruby," the reptilian voice drawled at the other end of the line, and she immediately straightened up.

"Hold on a sec," she said, standing and heading for the door. She gave Gabriel and Charlie a shrug. "Family stuff," she said, and they just shrugged it off and continued talking as Ruby stepped into the hallway and walked far enough away that she wouldn't have to worry about being heard.

"Alistair," she said, glancing around for any employees, but she was alone for once. "I told you never to call me before five."

"Change in plans," he said, as usual, straight down to business. "The storm is moving in quicker than anticipated. With Gabriel having all his non-essentials off the island by 5:30, the best we can give you is an 18 minute window."

Ruby took in a sharp breath. "Are you kidding? I've run this simulation a hundred times, Alistair, and the best I've done is twenty. You're asking me to shave two whole minutes off that? Do you realize how exact this has to be?"

He chuckled on the other end of the line. "I do realize, and I trust you to be able to get the job done. Especially if you want your money," he said. "You've got 18 minutes from the signal. That's all we can give you, Ruby. Our guy has to leave the dock at the same time Novak's ship does or someone is going to get nosey."

Ruby was surprised her grip wasn't breaking the phone. She paced, her jaw clenched as she tried to think of where she could possibly shave time off her carefully planned process.

"I should ask for a bonus for your ridiculous demands," she snapped, but Alistair didn't seem bothered.

"You'll still get them for us. I know you will, " he said, and that dangerous edge was back in his voice, the hint that if she didn't, things would not be going well for her. She swallowed hard and nodded.

"I'll get the damn things. Just have your guy at the dock on time, and give me every second you can," she snapped, and then she hung up before Alistair could make her even madder.

Two less minutes. She could manage that, surely- thirty seconds here, twenty seconds there, just a little bit quicker on everything she'd practiced. She could do it.

She had to do it.


	7. Sabotage

When she got the one word text, the word "Ready" lighting up on the screen, Ruby was beyond ready. She had been ready for a while now, adrenaline running high, manicured fingernails tapping on her desk as she stared at the screens. If Gabriel and Charlie hadn't been so busy discussing the tour tomorrow, they might have noticed her extreme case of nerves.

As it was, she had to stand up and clear her throat loudly to get their attention. As soon as they both focused on her, she crossed her arms. "I'm going out to the vending machines. You want anything?"

It was obvious that they hadn't been expecting her to ask that, because they both just kind of stared at her as if she'd grown a third head for a moment before Charlie answered. "Um…no thanks?"

Ruby rolled her eyes and sighed. She wasn't surprised Gabriel wasn't even going to give her the time of day, not after all the explosive arguments they'd had. "Fine. Just so you know, I'm starting up a debugging program. It might knock a couple minor systems offline, phones, cameras, that kind of thing. They won't be off long, don't worry," she said, turning away from them before she even finished talking.

She made sure they were back to their conversation and not paying attention before leaning back over her station. She put one finger on the enter key, and one finger on her phone; at the same moment, she pressed the enter button to start the program, and pressed the button on her phone to start the stopwatch.

That done, she grabbed the fake shaving cream canister and tucked it in her jacket, picked up her phone, and headed out the door.

It wasn't a far walk to the security doors leading into the embryo storage. The hallways of the science wing were deserted, all of the scientists having been evacuated to the boat, which made this that much easier for her; normally she hated bad weather, but this storm was going to help her make millions of dollars, so she couldn't really complain.

Her heart was hammering against her ribs as she watched the security camera sweep across the hallway; she looked at her phone, watching the last few seconds tick down, and then the camera stilled, the red light going out. At the same time, the metal locks in the doors automatically slid free and stayed in the open position.

Right on time. She was a computer genius, there was no question.

She pushed the first heavy door open, and then slid the second glass door open, shivering at the rush of freezing cold air from inside the chamber. Her hands trembling with excitement and nervousness, she took out the shaving cream canister and unscrewed the base, then pulled the embryo racks out of the liquid nitrogen bath.

She grabbed a rag from a side table, using that to pluck the tiny vials out of the storage rack, one from each level of it until she had twelve in the canister. She closed the storage, screwed the shaving cream canister shut, and smirked as she headed for the door, tucking the canister back in her jacket.

So far, so good, and ahead of schedule, too.

It took two long minutes to walk all the way to the vehicle bay, but she didn't have to worry about being seen, not with the cameras out and nearly all of the staff evacuated. She grabbed a numbered key off the wall and headed for the Jeep with the same number, jumping in and slamming it into gear, taking off with the squeal of tires.

All she had to do was make it down to the dock, and she would be millions richer.

* * *

Back in the control room, the first sign of something not quite right was the alert on Charlie's screen that the cameras and locks had shut down.

"What the hell?" she said with a frown, going back to her workstation, her fingers flying across the keyboard. Gabriel just shrugged, busy digging through the bowl of candy again.

"She said some minor systems might fail when she ran the program. Probably nothing," he said, though he didn't like the fact that the cameras watching the tour cars and the cameras inside the tour vehicles had all gone dark. Now all they had to go on was the GPS signal that showed them exactly where the cars were along the track. They were still moving, at least, so the tour program didn't seem to be affected.

But moments later, when the alarms for the power to the fences began to go off, it became a hell of a lot more than 'nothing'.

"Charlie," Gabriel started, but Charlie was already on it, sliding her wheeled chair from one end of her workstation to the other, red hair falling over her shoulders as she leaned forward to stare at the monitors.

"I don't know. It's not the weather. Something's wrong," she said, and then she stood up and jogged over to Ruby's station, waking up the monitor and pulling up the programming console. Her confusion only deepened when she found that it was password protected; she entered one password, then another, and then a third, and each time the same message returned, "Access Denied" in bold letters on the screen.

"I told her not to lock down her programming console," Gabriel said with a frown, watching over Charlie's shoulder as she tried two more passwords. When those failed, the console suddenly went entirely black, and the only thing on the screen was a bright green message that read "Too many login attempts. This program is shutting down until owner retina scan is initiated."

"Shit, what did she do…?" Charlie said with a worried look, moving back to her own workstation. Gabriel tried to pull up the GPS tracking on one of the computers, but nothing came up.

"Charlie, is the tour program down?" he asked, his stomach sinking a little and she tapped at the keyboard and winced.

"Tour program, phones, fences, cameras, locks…they're all down," she said, and Gabriel cursed and took a few steps away. This would not look good at all on the evaluation of the park; his customers were stuck in cars in the rain in the middle of the park, and the fences were down. He could only hope that none of the dinosaurs figured that out before they could get the systems up and running again.

"Where was the last GPS signal sent from?" he asked, his tone tense and frustrated.

Charlie pulled up another window, and then she hesitated. "Uh, they were…approaching the T-Rex paddock."

Gabriel cursed again, looking up at the sound of footsteps; if it was Ruby, there was going to be hell to pay. But instead, Meg stood in the doorway, her flight jacket slung over her arm and her hair dripping wet.

"Wanna tell me what's going on? Because all the forecast systems I use to plan my flights are down. If I don't take off in the next half hour, it's not gonna happen," she said, and then she seemed to take in their stressed expressions and tense stances, Charlie barely glancing up from her work.

"We've got issues with half the park systems right now," Gabriel explained, gesturing to the workstation. "Fences and locks are going to be a little more important than your forecasting programs."

"The _fences_ are down? Aren't there like, thirty failsafes on those things?"

"33," Charlie corrected, looking affronted that Meg had guessed three short. "But all the failsafes in the park mean nothing if the programs are sabotaged from the base programming."

Meg's eyebrow arched. "Sabotaged? Excuse me?"

"Ruby's missing. She said she started up a debugging program before she left, but she locked down her consoles. We can't get in to see what she did," Gabriel explained darkly, just as Sam and Benny stepped into the control room, soaking wet and looking confused.

"You guys know all the locks are out and the fence lighting system isn't functionin'?" Benny asked, and Gabriel snorted. Meg shifted her weight with an amused snort.

"It's all down, Lafitte. Ruby fucked every system she could get her hands on. It's not the fence lighting system, it's the _fences_," she said, crossing her arms, and Benny whistled low.

"That's…a bad situation, brother."

Gabriel held up his hands, seeing that things were quickly spiraling out of control here; Sam looked like he was about to panic. He had to keep everyone calm and make sure Charlie got those fences back up. He couldn't lose this park over one bitter now ex employee. "We'll get the fences back up, Charlie's working on it now. Benny, Meg, you two go catch that boat and get off the island, we've got this covered."

Benny nodded and gave Gabriel a smile. "Stay safe. I'll see you after the storm passes," he said before he turned and left in a hurry, which was no surprise; the boat was leaving soon, and Benny had a wife and a newborn baby on the mainland. He wasn't in the business of taking risks right now.

Meg, though, lifted her chin and stood firm. "You kidding? I'm not leaving. Bunch of computer geeks trying to handle this, you'll all get eaten for sure," she said.

"Nobody's getting eaten," Gabriel snapped.

"Where…where are the tour cars? Did they get back to the garage?" Sam asked with a frown, and Charlie and Gabriel's silence was enough to answer that question. His frown deepened into something more like concern. "Where did the cars stop, Gabriel?"

Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, then shrugged, trying to buy himself time to try and figure out an optimistic way of telling Sam that his brother was currently stranded by the T-Rex paddock. When he took a moment too long, Charlie gave him a glare.

"They stopped near the T-Rex paddock, Sam," she said, and his eyes went wide, looking between Gabriel and Charlie in disbelief.

"They're stuck by the T-Rex pen with the _fences down_?" he asked, beginning to pace. "We…we have to go get them. We can't leave them out there."

"And we can't go running in there without a good plan, either, unless you just want to end up in the same situation," Meg said. "I'll go find Bobby. If anyone knows how these lizards are gonna act with the fences down, it's him."

"Keep an eye out for Ruby. She's the only one who can reverse this easily," Gabriel said, and Meg nodded, leaving the room quickly. Sam's hands tightened into fists and he swallowed hard, and Gabriel tried to give him a reassuring grin.

"Don't worry, Sam. We'll have the fences up in a few minutes here. Charlie's a wiz at this shit," he said, but Sam didn't look comforted in the least. He shook his head with an incredulous laugh, giving Gabriel a look of disbelief.

"Your brother is stuck out there in a hurricane, with useless fences and 8 ton dinosaurs," he said slowly, eyes searching Gabriel, as if looking for some sign of concern. "And you're not worried? Really?"

"Even if the rex does take a stroll, as long as they stay in the cars, they'll be fine. Why would a dinosaur care about a couple of cars?" Gabriel insisted with a dismissive gesture, though the words sounded weak, even to his ears. Sure, he was worried about Cas; worried Cas would tell the investors and press about his awful experience too, sure, but definitely worried about Cas too. Mostly.

Charlie bit her lip, eyes scanning the nonsensical codes on the screen even as she worked. "Hang in there, Sam, I'm going as fast as I can," she said, though the smile she gave him was forced. It wasn't hard to see that every moment the fences were down, she was getting more and more anxious.

"Either way, as soon as Bobby gets here, I'm going to take a car and pick them up," Sam insisted, which Gabriel had been expecting; but Bobby would probably be willing to go along, and bring a few of the big guns. He had to get Sam to at least wait until they'd gotten Bobby here. He shrugged and turned away, back toward the darkened monitors.

"Suit yourself, big guy."

* * *

Castiel was almost thankful for the distraction when the cars suddenly pulled to a halt, the instruments and touchscreen going dark. He didn't think Crowley would have ever shut up otherwise; he'd been going on and on, trying to convince Castiel to do some kind of publicity tour for the park.

Castiel's own agent had to beg him to get him to agree to book signing tours. He hated too much publicity; he hardly did it for himself, let alone for his brother's dinosaur park that would be getting plenty of publicity on its own. No, he planned to write up his evaluation, sign it, hand it over, and be on his way, back to his quiet, nondescript townhouse.

"What the hell?" Crowley said, wrinkling his nose at the dashboard of the car, as if it had personally offended him by stopping. Castiel just raised his eyebrows and poked at the touchscreen a few times, but the car was dead in the water. Literally, because the rain was coming down hard, and there was at least an inch of water on the road.

"Hiccup in the power?" he guessed, knowing that the cars were run from the program back at the control room. Without that program running, it wasn't a surprise that the cars would stop.

"Glad the bloody fences have backups. Looks like they didn't bother to backup anything else," Crowley snapped, crossing his arms and leaning back in the passenger seat. Castiel sighed, looking out the windshield, but there wasn't much to see. Between the sun just on the edge of setting and the thick, tall foliage, it was pretty dark out there.

He thought he remembered that there should have been lights on the fences, but he was probably wrong. After all, when they were going by the exhibits, the fences hadn't been the first thing on his mind; he'd been busy looking for any signs of dinosaurs beyond the fence.

"Can't believe we're stuck out here," Crowley complained again, and Castiel laughed softly and shook his head.

"Relax. The park Jeeps run on gasoline, right? They'll send someone out to get us if the power stays out too long. They won't leave us out here all night," he said, opening the armrest between the seats and tugging out the brochures he found there. At least he could do a little light reading while they waited.

A few minutes later there was a light knock on the window, and Castiel jumped in surprise before cracking the door open; it was Dean, holding his jacket over his head as a makeshift umbrella.

"Everyone okay up here?" Dean asked, and Crowley snorted loudly.

"Just peachy. Having a grand time, let me tell you," he said, but Dean ignored him, focusing on Castiel. Castiel felt his heart skip like a flat stone across water, and he smiled in return.

"We're alright, Dean, thank you," he said, and Dean nodded, hesitating for a few long moments.

"Good. Yeah, Jo and I are playing cards till it comes back on. Let me know if you need anything, alright?" he said, finally deciding the rain was too much and pushing the door closed. Castiel watched in the side mirror as Dean went back to the other car and slid inside.

It was too bad that they lived so far apart, him in New York City and Dean in Chicago- well, when he wasn't on digs, anyway. It had been a long time since he was this genuinely attracted to someone who was bothering to show an interest in him in return.

It made him begin to wonder what the weather and housing market would be like in Chicago. He didn't _have_ to live in the same city as his agent, technically.

He went back to idly flipping through the brochures, which were obviously rough drafts of the finished products. The paper was dull and the pictures were missing, empty squares set aside for them to be added later, but the information was still there. He flipped to the one about the stegosaurus, remembering the look on Dean's face when he'd seen it, and the strange texture of its rough skin under his hand.

If anyone else had asked him to pet a dinosaur, sedated or not, he would have laughed it off. It was disturbingly difficult to say no to Dean, though, not when he looked so…joyful. That had to be the word for it. And now that he thought about it, it fit; after all, Dean had been studying these creatures all his life, knowing that he would never get to see them in person, that his findings and his imagination would have to suffice.

Now, he was seeing them alive and up close. It had to be beyond anything he and Jo and Sam could have ever dreamed.

A low vibration suddenly broke him out of his thoughts. He glanced over to where Crowley was evidently trying to doze, but the man hadn't stirred; maybe it was his imagination. He went back to the brochure, reading about the family structure of the stegosaurs.

But it happened again. Just a momentary, low vibration, and he dropped the brochures back into the armrest, straightening up a little.

"Did you feel that?" he asked, and Crowley cracked one eye open, practically radiating disinterest.

"Feel what?" he asked, but then it happened a third time, and this time Crowley obviously felt it. The lawyer paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Probably the power trying to come back on. Would you relax? Spending this weekend with you is going to give _me _hemorrhoids."

Castiel ignored the jab, instead watching out the side window facing the paddock fence, squinting to try and see anything through the dark. He wasn't sure at first what was wrong with what he was seeing, but then he realized what it was; the goat was gone. The rope was hanging limp from the tether, swinging in the wind.

"…What happened to the goat?" he asked, and Crowley turned to look, just as something _moved_.

It was like a wall of flesh on the other side of the fence. Dark, brown and green mottled skin blended in perfectly with the trees and brush, but something that big moving through the plants was impossible to miss. Castiel's heart was somewhere in his throat as he leaned down a little to see more.

He got the T-Rex's head in his line of sight just as the massive animal was swallowing the goat down.

He thought he'd been ready for this; it wasn't like he didn't know it was coming. He knew that eventually he would be seeing the T-Rex, he knew from drawings and movie special effects what it would probably look like, but all of that was out the window as the dinosaur's head swiveled to look at the cars. Long white teeth stood out against the animal's dark skin, the rows of teeth easily visible even when its mouth was closed, and Castiel couldn't breathe. He couldn't even think.

There was a T-Rex fifty feet away from him.

"Bugger this," Crowley suddenly said, flinging the car door open and jumping out, water splashing up as he hit the ground running. Castiel tried to call him back, but the words fell on deaf ears as Crowley crossed the road to the small wooden building containing the bathrooms.

The T-Rex was moving toward the fence now, and Castiel held his breath, despite knowing that the fences were electrified. Every step the T-Rex took shook the ground a little, and it stopped right by the fence.

Castiel slid into the passenger seat, then grabbed the door Crowley had left open and pulled it shut. The T-Rex locked onto the noise, looking from one car to the other- and then, it stepped forward, pushing against the fence.

And the fence began to give way.

It wasn't just the tour program, not just the general power. Everything was down. The fences weren't working. And now, with a loud creak and groan, the fence was bending, the electrified cords snapping harmlessly. Castiel felt his stomach twist into knots as the cords broke away, and then the T-Rex was stepped out of the paddock onto the road, walking between the cars.

"Shit. _Shit_," Castiel gasped out, scooting back into the driver's seat, watching over the back of the seat as the T-Rex paused.

Then it roared, and the sound made Castiel clamp his hands down over his ears. It was unlike anything he'd ever heard before, and it was loud enough to shake his bones and leave him a little dazed. By the time he looked up again, the T-Rex was moving toward Dean and Jo's car.

Maybe it would ignore the cars. Maybe it would go find another dinosaur to eat or something, and they could wait safely until Gabriel sent someone out to get them.

Of course, they didn't have that kind of luck.

The T-Rex nudged its snout against the car, the whole thing shaking with the push, and though Castiel couldn't see into the car, he knew Dean and Jo had to be panicked. The T-Rex nudged the car again, harder this time, and the whole thing rocked on its wheels.

It was like watching a dog with a puzzle toy, pushing with its nose, trying to get the treats to fall out- but in this case, the dog was an eight ton dinosaur, and the treats were Dean and Jo, trapped in the car as the T-Rex leaned against it. The T-Rex roared again, the sound uncomfortably loud even from where Castiel was.

The T-Rex wasn't giving up easily. It stepped back and then lowered its head, and Castiel took in a sharp breath as it head-butted the car, and this time the car tipped over onto its side. Another push and the car was on its roof in the mud, and the T-Rex was planting its foot on the exposed bottom of the car, pinning it down. The roof of the car sank into the mud and sharp cracks split the air as the skeleton of the car gave way under eight tons of dinosaur.

Castiel couldn't just watch anymore. He had to do something, anything; he couldn't sit here and watch Dean and Jo get killed. He needed something, a plan, a weapon, anything to give him any kind of edge.

If it were even possible to have an edge over a T-Rex, that is.

He crawled into the backseat and then leaned over to look into the back of the SUV, pushing aside papers and bubble wrap until he came across a silver metal case. He fumbled with the clasps on it, then yanked it open, his mind racing as he prayed that there was some kind of weapon in the case, preferably a really big gun. Bullets or tranquilizer, he didn't care, as long as it worked.

Unfortunately, there were no actual weapons, which didn't really surprise him. There was a flare gun tucked beside the other miscellaneous supplies in the case, and he grabbed it, knowing that a flare gun against a T-Rex would be like a carpet shock to a human. It was all he had, though, and he slid to the door and shoved it open, stepping out into the rain. Mud sucked at his shoes, making it difficult to move, and cold rainwater puddled through his shoes.

The T-Rex was chewing on one of the tires, torn rubber hanging from its teeth, and for a moment Castiel was certain that he couldn't do this, that he would be crawling back in that car in a panic. But then he thought of Jo and Dean, trapped in the upside down car; he steeled his nerves and ran a bit closer, mud tugging at his shoes with every step.

He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, rain already soaking through his clothing as the T-Rex started lifted its head. Castiel didn't wait any longer; he gripped the flare gun tight, aimed, and fired. The flare struck the massive dinosaur in the side of the neck, a bright light sparking against dark skin, and the T-Rex swung its head around and focused in on Castiel.

Well, he'd wanted its attention, and now he definitely had it.

He dropped the gun and took off as quickly as his feet could carry him through the mud, making a break for the small building that Crowley had disappeared into. It was the only shelter that even looked slightly sturdy, which, to be honest, wasn't sturdy at all and he knew it. He heard the T-Rex growl deep in its throat and the ground vibrated again, thundering footsteps behind him, and he didn't look. He knew it was right on his heels, that he needed to focus and keep running, or he would never make it.

It didn't matter; he didn't make it.

He was mere steps from the building when something slammed into him from behind, and the wet smell of rotting meat hit him, and something in him knew that the smell was the T-Rex's breath, from raw meat stuck between its teeth. Something sliced through the flesh of his right leg, and he was thrown forward, hitting the door of the building and falling hard.

There was a loud crash, and Castiel clutched his hands over his head, trying to protect himself as the world seemed to crumble around him. There was a gust of wind, and he lifted his head expecting to see a wall, only to see a few free-standing bathroom stalls and sinks. Two walls of the wooden building had been knocked down, run into headlong by the rushing T-Rex.

Through the haze of pain, Castiel struggled to keep his head up, and he flinched as a massive foot landed next to his body. This was it; the T-Rex was going to finish him off, because he knew that his right leg wasn't going to work, probably was ripped to shreds. He couldn't even move it.

But then, he saw movement. Crowley was cowering by one of the sinks, backing up against one of the two remaining walls, holding his hands up as if he could defend himself from the dinosaur.

Castiel winced and ducked his head when the T-Rex's mouth came down, teeth snapping closed on Crowley's torso and lifting him into the air. Tortured screams turned into guttural whines, then there was a sharp snap, and the noises cut off abruptly. Castiel felt dizzy and sick, the pain was overwhelming, and something landed next to him that he knew he didn't want to open his eyes to see.

Not that he could've. It was all too much, the pain, the cold, the knowledge that the dinosaur standing over him would likely be eating him next. With the sound of bones snapping over his head, he gave in and let the darkness take him.


End file.
